Purple Death
by joyindenver
Summary: Settled into a permanent relationship with her fairy, Sookie is pulled back into vampire intrigues. A series of vampire murders have the LA vamps spooked.  Bill, Area 5 Investigator, comes knocking on her door seeking her special help.  Unwrapped Sequel
1. Chapter 1

******Posted:** ****5/15/11****  
><strong>Updated: <strong>****7/3/11

****DISCLAIMER: CH owns all things SVM. No infringement is intended, and no monetary gain is being earned by me, myself, or I. This bit of fanfiction is strictly a creative writing exercise.****

_Unwrapped Sequel**  
><strong>_**Purple Death**

**A/N: **There may be terms and history that may be referred to throughout this story between characters that originated in my story Unwrapped. Though I've tried my best to write Purple Death, a mystery story, so that it can stand alone, you may want to consider reading Unwrapped.

* * *

><p><em>"I had a steady heart before I met you, I relied upon it, <em>

_it had seen active service and grown strong. _

_Now you alter its pace with your own rhythm, _

_you play upon me, drumming me taut."_

Jeanette Winterson_, Written on the Body_

_~ * 0 * ~_

**1.**

Sunlight streamed in through the open window, casting her nude form in a soft glow. The gentle breeze blew her hair about her bare shoulder and across her neck. His breath hitched. Something like pain filled his chest. To say he loved her seemed too cliché; too simple a word to describe the storm churning inside him. Yet, what other word existed that could so precisely capture the many facets of the emotions and desires brewing inside him; a word that would live on to times indefinite that encompassed that precipice where both pain and happiness and fire lived? There was no other word but Love. Love: a feeling so blissfully intoxicating; paralyzing; invigorating; hope beyond measure; maddening. He felt every last one of these and yet others.

"What?" Sookie bashfully asked.

Preston smiled; a dimple forming at one corner. Having kissed every inch of her body: her mouth, her breasts, her thighs, she had not blushed once, but his admiring gaze now brought a flush to her cheeks. "You're so beautiful, it hurts." He moved near her, close enough to touch. The pads of his fingers lightly trailed her cheek and down her neck. "You're a poem," he leaned forward and placed a kiss on her bare shoulder, "an aria."

Sookie's body quivered with the first spark of desire. Almost instantly she was ready for him, again.

That morning, every mile that had brought her closer to Baton Rouge had made her heart flutter with eager anticipation. When she arrived, it had taken every ounce of her self-control not to run to the front door. The moment Preston appeared in the doorway and she saw him, the expression on his face, her own feelings, Sookie knew their relationship had changed. Their time together in Faery had altered everything. It felt different between them, she felt it. The change was instant. Preston scooped her in his arms and kissed her; long and deep. She hadn't realized until that moment how parched her body and soul had been for his touch. She drank him in; quivering with a need for him to be inside her and her inside him.

Stumbling through his workshop, bodies pressed together, a trail of clothing led from the entryway, into the elevator, through the living room, and up the stairs into the bedroom.

Laying there with him, her soul was content; as if she had found a part of herself she had been missing. She closed her eyes, relishing in his love. He leaned back and resumed watching her. She opened her eyes, a lazy smile delicately drawing her lips at their corners. She reached out for him, and he took her hand and laced their fingers.

"What happens now?" she asked.

"Whatever you want." He drew their joined hands to his lips and kissed her fingers. She sighed with a soft sound of contentment.

"I want to stay in Bon Temps, and I want to stay with you."

"You're my mate," he declared confidently; his voice clear. "Where you go, I go."

"Like a marriage?" She wanted to hear the words.

"Yes."

A spark danced in the blue of Sookie's eyes. Preston moved off the bed and disappeared down the stairs. She buried her face in her pillow. It always made her feel dizzy when she tried to follow Preston's movements. Fairies were just as fast if not faster than vampires. When he returned and sat next to her on the bed, he held out a small metallic object.

"What's this?" she asked, propping herself on her elbows. She took Preston's offering and studied it.

"Traditionally, the _Marking*_ comes after this part."

"Oh." Sookie blushed, remembering their time in Faery when with their sparks they marked each other.

"I offer myself to you as a mate. That's what the token represents. It's in the likeness of ambrosia."

"Very pretty." Sookie beamed at him. She ran the pad of her finger over the token. It fit perfectly, its size and weight filling the palm of her hand. Though each petal was intricately formed there was nothing dainty about it.

"If you don't want me as your mate, you return it to me," Preston explained. "Or when you accept my offer, you present me with a token."

"I don't have one." Sookie felt embarrassed.

"It's okay." His eyes locked with hers, and her heart swelled under the devotion in his eyes. "When you're ready, you will. Customarily, after we exchange tokens, there's a small ceremony and then we are bound. We can even get the piece of paper if you'd like."

"This is real isn't it?" Sookie let out a nervous laugh. Her Gran would roll in her grave if she knew how anxious she suddenly felt. Everything seemed to be moving so fast, but she'd made her choice; she wanted this, all of it, as much as she could have, with Preston.

"Yes," he answered. "When you're ready. For now, this is enough." He leaned forward and drew Sookie against the front of him. He kissed her; a press of lips and then he slipped his tongue into her mouth. All talk of tokens, marriage, and ceremonies forgotten.

* * *

><p><em><strong>*Definition: <strong>_The marking, from Unwrapped, is a fairy biological function driven largely by emotions. When fairies chose their life mates their essential sparks mark one another. This marking is both magical (_invisible_) and physical (_scent_), which lets other fairies know they are mated. - _see Unwrapped Chapters 16, 18, & 32_


	2. Chapter 2

**Posted: **5/15/11  
><strong>Revised:<strong> 8/20/11

* * *

><p><strong>2.<strong>

Over the next several months, Preston and Sookie settled blissfully into a permanent living situation. Preston's move-in had started with a few things; a change of clothes at first, but as his stays became longer, he brought more of his things, until one day, he was a permanent fixture at the Stackhouse homestead.

Sookie's home, both inside and outside, were now a reflection of her new life with Preston. Part of him blended with a part of her. Her Gran's afghan was now draped over the back of the sofa Preston had brought with him from Baton Rouge. Outside where her grandfather's shed use to be, was now a newly constructed workshop built to look aged as if it had been there as long as the house.

Everyone, for the most part, welcomed Preston in to Sookie's life. That is, Bon Temps' human residents. They loved Preston. Him being a fairy it was no surprise to Sookie that they would take a shine to him. However, Bon Temps' supernatural residents weren't so thrilled or welcoming with a few exceptions. Sam was cautiously happy for her. He did ask Preston to lift the magic he had cast over Merlotte's, which he was more than gracious to do though it was only because Sookie had asked him to.

"Another one?" Sookie asked. Her eyes were fixed on the television screen behind the bar. The news anchor was reporting on the latest vampire murder.

"That makes the fourth vampire in six months," Sam said.

"Do you think it's the Fellowship of the Sun?"

"The newspaper says the police have ruled them out. They suspect it might be professional blood drainers committing the murders."

A worried shiver ran down Sookie's spine. The killings were all in Louisiana, and they were getting closer.

"The vampires suspect it might be one of them," Sam explained. "Eric called. He asked that I let him know if any new vampires drop in."

"Do you think that's likely?"

"Hard to say. The latest murder was in Shreveport."

"I hope they find the killers." She was worried, as was Sam, that if the killings weren't drainings, but motivated by hate that it might be only a matter of time before Shifters were targeted. Shifters had gone public only months ago, and everywhere, people were still whirling from their big reveal.

"So how's Preston?" Sam asked. The bar had been busy tonight, and he hadn't had a chance to chat with Sookie. "He hasn't dropped by in a few weeks."

"He's good." Her face lit up as it usually did when his name was mentioned. "He's been busy with a few special projects he's just picked up."

"Last time he dropped by he mentioned something about opening up a gallery."

"Actually, he and Bill are supposed to meet tonight." Sam arched his brow. Last he heard vampires and fairies were a dangerous combination. "Preston is thinking about leasing some space in one of Bill's business plazas."

"Is that a good idea?" he asked. "I thought vampires went all red around fairies." It was true. Older vampires had enough control over themselves to tolerate a fairy's presence for a short while. Bill was a young vampire, but since draining one of the fairy assassins he had built a tolerance. Preston said it wouldn't last forever.

"If it wasn't safe," Sookie replied. "Preston would have decided to go another route."

"Well, he should know." Sam decided to change the subject. "I heard Jason's got a new woman in his life."

"Yeah, sounds pretty serious too."

"Good for him. Things better between the two of you?"

Jason was among Bon Temps' supernatural residents who weren't so welcoming of Preston, but being that for all practical purposes, Preston was family now, Jason was slowly coming around.

"He's warming up," she answered.

"Well, he should. You deserve some happiness." There was, for an instant, a flash of disappointment beneath his sincerity. Sookie noticed. She nervously rolled her apron.

"Thank you, Sam."

He was glad that Sookie was happy. Still he had wished things could have been different between them.

"I'll see you tomorrow," she said.

"Good night."

Sookie didn't like the awkwardness that sometimes existed between them. She was relieved to be heading home. The thought of going home made her stomach flutter with anticipation. A wide grin spread across her face. After all these months of living together, knowing Preston would be there waiting for her, her stomach still filled with butterflies when she headed home.

When she pulled into the driveway, Preston was still in his workshop. He tended to get absorbed in his work. For the last several nights she'd fallen asleep alone.

"Has Bill stopped by?" Sookie leaned against the open door to Preston's workshop. He looked up and smiled. Seeing the subtle signs that she was tired, his smile faltered a bit. She didn't have to work, but it gave her purpose, something he understood.

"He had a date tonight. Tired?"

"Really?" Sookie was surprised. Bill was a very private person, and this bothered her sometimes. They were friends, and he hadn't mentioned to her that he was seeing anyone.

"If I'm not mistaken, I think it's our new neighbor."

"Really?" Sookie's voice rose a few notes. "Bill didn't waste any time did he."

"Apparently not," Preston answered

The abandoned road, which had proven to be a thorn in Sookie's proverbial side for a few years, led to private property. Pearl Freeman had purchased it about the time that Sookie and Preston returned from Faery. Pearl had been married to Alfred R. Freeman, some well to do executive and three years as the undead. Gossip had it that Alfred R. Freeman had made sure his wife would be well taken care of in the event of his untimely end. They had married in California where vampire marriages were legal, but they lived in New Orleans. About a year or so ago he had fallen victim to vampire drainers. Pearl's new house was under construction when Preston and Sookie were getting bids for his workshop, and her contractor had given them a reasonable price.

"I wouldn't have thought Bill would go for someone like Pearl."

"Why is that?" he asked.

Sookie shrugged. She hesitated knowing it wasn't right to gossip. Pearl Freeman was nothing like Selah—legs up to there, sophisticated, elitist, _thank God,_ thought Sookie. Pearl was a petite woman. She wasn't exceptionally attractive. She was pretty in a wholesome American Pie and baseball sort of way. Pearl seemed to Sookie to be more at home in a ponytail and jeans.

"Compared to the last woman Bill dated I wouldn't have thought he'd go for a Pearl Freeman."

"She seems like a nice woman."

Sookie looked at him suspiciously. "I would think you would disapprove of her choice."

Preston barely shrugged. Sookie grinned amused. Preston didn't think too highly of vampires. Bill had proven to be an exception when he happened to kill one of the fairy assassins. That singular event had raised Bill up a few notches. Regardless of the reason, Sookie was glad.

"If it was you or a child of ours," Preston paused. "Well," he stopped, thoughtful for another moment. "I would probably feel different."

Sookie exhaled loudly. She wasn't surprised. "You don't have to worry about me," she said. Preston's eyes showed his amusement. He knew he'd touched one of Sookie's buttons. "As for the other part," she exhaled. "Well, I'd have something to say about that." Her eyes followed Preston as he approached her, cautiously.

"I believe you would." He lightly touched her arm, moving to her neck and to the hollow curve of her collarbone. He loved that spot. "I'd expect no less from my passionate mate."

"You sure know how to make a girl's knees go weak." Her voice was laced with a humorous sarcasm.

"I'm going to make love to you tonight." Preston leaned in. His hand held the collar of her shirt to the side. He kissed the dip where her neck met her collarbone. Sookie let out a ragged breath. A mischievous smile spread across his face. He recognized her body's changes to her desire. When he straightened he could see the heat in her blue eyes.

Sookie crossed her arms over her chest. She loved and hated how he could fill her with lust with just one touch.

"When I have you nude and completely exposed to me," he whispered. "I'm going to ravish you with my mouth."

Sookie flushed. "Fine." She pressed her lips together.

"I like it when you use the peach scented soap." He ran his fingers along the inside of her thigh.

Sookie closed her eyes. Her breath coming out a bit shaky. "You're incorrigible." She sounded breathless. Her hand pressed against the door frame, bracing herself. She took an unsteady step backwards.

Preston's smile didn't waiver as he watched Sookie walk toward the house. She was fertile. He could feel it in his body. Every month it was like this. The fragrance of her skin when she was fertile heated his blood. For that window of time, he was insatiable. The fact that she was so damn willing, so sensitive to his touch; he felt a pain at the thought.

_Bill Compton needed to hurry, _thought Preston.

About the time that Sookie finished showering and was blowing drying her hair, she picked up Bill's signature outside. Six months ago, her telepathy couldn't have distinguished one vampire signature from another. Niall had warned her that she would experience some changes by being near Preston. It was true that she was more resilient. Her night vision was twice as good as it use to, but it still wasn't as good as a vampire or fairy. However, one side effect of her essential spark growing stronger, which she had not anticipated, neither had Niall, was her telepathy. It was more sensitive. She could pick out individual vampires by just their signatures.

Sookie pulled on her fluffy robe over her white silk gown Preston had bought her for her birthday. With her booties on her feet, her robe secure, she stepped onto the porch and took a seat on the porch swing.

"Hi Bill." Sookie cheerfully greeted her friend. "How was your date with Pearl?"

"A success I think." Bill smiled. "She's a database architect. I got to know her at a conference we both attended in California."

"What a small world. Sounds like you have lots in common."

"She was married to a vampire."

"That's what I heard. I'm happy for you Bill. I hope it works out. Pearl is a very kind person."

"Thank you, Sookie."

"I'm done for the night." Preston strolled up to the porch. He met Sookie's eyes. He wondered what she was wearing under her robe. There was suddenly a palpable tension in the air between them. Their combined essential sparks reacted like charged electrons.

Bill inhaled sharply. He felt the sudden rush of power.

"Sorry about that Bill," Preston apologized. It was out of his control. His mate was fertile.

"I need to return home and see to a few things before dawn." Bill noted the blush on Sookie's cheeks.

"Goodnight." Sookie and Preston spoke in sync.

"I'm going to clean up," Preston informed her. Sookie looked up at him. She licked her lips.

"Okay. I'll lock up." She followed him inside the house.

Sookie checked the doors and turned the lights out. Preston entered the bedroom just as Sookie sat down on the bed.

"That was fast." Her smile was mischievous. "Come here." She reached her hand out and when he stepped in front of her she tugged at the towel around his waist. It fell to the floor. "Happy to see me?" Her voice was sultry.

Before he could reply, she kissed the tip of him. Preston gasped. His body quivered with the sudden jolt of pleasure and desire.

"Sookie," he choked drawing a half step back. Meeting her eyes, he lightly caressed her cheek.

"Let me touch you."

Her gaze heated his blood. His heart racing, he nodded his head.


	3. Chapter 3

**Posted: **5/22/11  
><strong>Revised:<strong> 7/3/11

* * *

><p><strong>3.<strong>

Days later, the thumping base of dance music permeated everything, spilling shamelessly outside into the streets and into the dark narrow alleyway. Beneath the muted grinding of the music from inside, an array of moans and grunts filled the cramped alley. The multicoloured glow of nightlights from the main street pulsed, intermittingly casting a strange light over bodies intertwined in a scene reminiscent of a Babylonian orgy.

Blood trailed down the sides of a vampire's mouth. The whites of his eyes gazed skyward, staring at nothing. His fingers tangled in purple hair nestled between his powerful legs, as his body convulsed under the young man's machinations.

A feminine silhouette guided her lover past the convulsing vampire and the man with purple hair. Her free hand grazed the broad shoulders of the young man buried between the vampire's legs as they stepped past them.

"I don't know about this…" Ian hesitated.

Ian Warren was one of Louisiana's most respected members of the undead community. He was a successful and wealthy investor in petrochemical. Ian had been a vampire for a few hundred years. So as far as any vampire was concerned, he was a newbie.

"Shh." His companion turned and pressed her soft lips against his, silencing him. He loved kissing her. Her saliva reminded him of Jolly Ranchers.

His enchanting companion was a virtual café girl. Every Tuesday and Thursday, Ian would enter her cyber café and buy a cup of coffee from her. In the virtual world of Café Flora, it didn't matter that he was a vampire. His companion had an avatar with legs up to there, amethyst eyes, shimmery dark hair, and a milky complexion. It took Ian four months to work up enough courage to ask her out on a date. At first their dates were limited to cyberspace, until three dates ago. Tonight they were celebrating their third date in the club district of Shreveport.

Ian allowed his enchanting companion to guide him to an available spot at the end of the dark alley. Her tongue was still buried inside his mouth when he pressed her against the brick building. Having been a vampire for only a few hundred years, there were still a few human notions of gentlemanly behavior he had still held on to. Making out with his girlfriend, in a dark alley, with other people making out alongside them, was something he would have never done when he was human; even as a vampire he very rarely did anything this racy. But with her, he was doing things he normally wouldn't do.

Near the opening of the alley, the young man with the purple hair stood up. The vampire embraced him in a heated kiss before leaving the dark alley hand in hand. As if on cue, Ian's companion knelt in front of him. Her fingers were nimble and her mouth masterful. Ian pressed his hands against the building lost to her tender loving. Soon a strangled sound between pain and pleasure rushed out from his mouth. She bit him in his inner thigh. His mouth salivated, his fangs extended. In a blink, he covered her bloody mouth with his own.

As he trailed bloody wet kisses to the base of her neck, her hands slid beneath his shirt. Ian's tongue traced the length of the artery in her neck. It pulsed with life and like he had done several times before, he entered her mind and glamoured her just a fraction of a second before his fangs entered her. Her toes curled and her body convulsed with a spontaneous organism. She let out an intoxicated moan. She rode the sensation, letting Ian fill himself with her tainted blood.

He savored the sweet warm liquid filling his mouth and coating his throat. With a moan he pulled out. His tongue lazily lapped at the puncture wounds on her neck. Within minutes the two fang marks healed closed from his saliva.

"We should go back to my place," Ian said. He owned a penthouse in the area.

"I think that's a great idea." She smiled lazily. Her voice had a feathery quality.

Ian drew her into his arms. Her legs hadn't yet fully recovered from her orgasm. As he guided them to his car, Ian considered himself fortunate. She was great company and her blood was succulent. He'd had many blood donors since becoming one of the undead, but none could compare to her. Like her Jolly Rancher flavored kisses, her blood was equally as tasty.

Several hours later, in Ian's plush penthouse, she laid naked and exhausted across Ian's bed. From his position at the foot of the bed, his eyes followed the small trail of blood trickling down the slope of her breast.

"What do you like for breakfast?" Ian asked. This was his invitation for her to stay the night.

She placed both her hands behind her head. A Cheshire grin drew her lips back. "Pancakes," she said.

Ian leaned forward to climb onto the bed. His vision suddenly clouded. He began to go limp, leaning toward one side.

"You're going to spill my glass of water," she said. She sat up, kneeling at the edge of the bed.

"Something is wrong," he slurred. The glass slipped out of his hand, spilling water around his feet.

"Ian," she softly called to him. She reached out, grabbing hold of his shoulder.

His body went slack, and with the help of gravity, she guided his body onto the bed. She lay with him, pressing herself against his side. With one elbow propping her up, she laid her free hand across his bare chest, idly drawing circles with her fingers.

"It won't hurt."

"What have you done?" His speech was garbled. He was paralyzed.

"Not, _what_ she has done." A mysterious figure materialized from the dark shadows at the edge of the bedroom. "But, _why_ has she done it." The figure of a man hovered over him at the edge of the bed.

Ian's pupils widened with surprise.

"You?" Ian slurred.


	4. Chapter 4

**Posted: **5/22/11  
><strong>Updated:<strong> 7/3/11

* * *

><p><strong>4<strong>.

Preston stood motionless at the bedroom window. One arm stretched above his head against the glass. He stared out into the woods behind the house. There was something or someone out there. Whatever it was, he could feel the ambient energy in the area being manipulated. When he first sensed it coming from the direction of the woods, he assumed it was Niall or Dermott reinforcing the portal, but they would have mentioned it and they never did. Even so, if it had been them, he would have only felt it once and never again, but the power surges were happening in a recurring pattern, which couldn't be explained by the portal.

"Good morning," Sookie greeted him from under the sheets. Hearing her soft feminine voice, Preston turned his head toward her. Sookie instantly noticed the serious set of his features and knew something was troubling him.

"Come here." He reached out his hand.

Sookie slid off the bed and padded her way to him. Stepping into the hollow of his arms, she folded herself against his bare chest. He held her closely and placed a kiss on the top of her head. Absently, he stroked her back.

With her cheek resting against him, Sookie glanced out the window and into the woods behind the house. She hoped he wasn't still feeling whatever strangeness he had been picking up off-and-on over the last several months. She lowered her arms and wrapped them around his waist squeezing him firmly.

"Is everything okay?" she asked.

"I felt it again."

Sookie tensed. "Are you sure it isn't the portal?" she asked.

"I'm sure." He sounded displeased.

"Could it be a fairy other than Niall or Dermott using the portal?" she asked.

"No." He nodded. "Passing through it doesn't create any disturbances."

"Maybe we should call Niall. He might know something."

Preston tilted her chin up so she was looking straight at him. He disliked seeing her worry. She cared too deeply about those she loved, which meant she worried far too often. "I'm sure it's nothing," he assured her. He softened his eyes and smiled at her.

Her cerulean blue eyes studied him carefully. She wanted to believe him.

"I'm positive," he said with conviction.

"Well." Sookie let out a deep breath. Her thoughts turned for a few seconds before her decision was made. "Come on." She stepped away from him and started to dress.

"Where are we going?" He looked at her amused by her sudden infusion of purpose.

"How long ago did you first feel…whatever it is; hours or minutes?" Sookie tried to conceal her frustration. She didn't even know what to call what it was he was sensing.

Preston shrugged. "A few minutes ago."

"Okay, then," Sookie leaned over her denim covered legs and tied her shoes, "Let's go see what's out there."

"I've checked before and found nothing."

"Yeah, but you've never gone out there right away." She stood up and walked toward him. "Come on slow poke." She swatted his bare bottom as she passed him. The urge to do other things swelled inside her.

He was nude.

Nudity had always seemed to her like the ultimate state of vulnerability. Looking at Preston, he was many things, but not one was vulnerable. He was powerful; the long line of his strong back; the apex of his firm rounded bottom curving down and meeting the large cluster of muscles forming his powerful thighs. She should be afraid of all that power coiled beneath that soft kid leather skin and muscles, but she wasn't. She was in awe. How could something so strong, so capable of causing damage, pleasure her in ways so sublime that it made the boundaries of her own self fade and blend with his. Was she mad, she wondered, to yearn for the warmth and tenderness of those strong arms that could just as easily crush her?

She turned toward the door. Glancing over her shoulder she met his gaze and winked at him. She bit her lip trying to suppress a mischievous smile. _ "Walk first,"_ she told herself.

Several moments later, standing at the tree line outside, Sookie glanced up at Preston. "Which way?" she asked.

Preston focused on the barely there sensation, trying to determine its starting point. "This way," he replied taking her hand. They trudged their way through the woods in one direction for several yards. He hesitated for a fraction and then changed direction.

"So tell me," he said causally, halting them in front of a large fallen tree. "What are we doing later?"

"We have the charity softball game later this morning."

"Explain that to me again." He turned to Sookie, lifting her into his arms.

"Hey," she exclaimed. Cradled in his arms, she glanced at him and followed his gaze to the large tree. "Oh," she breathed.

"Hold on," he said. Sookie buried her face in his shoulder. In one smooth motion he jumped over the large rotting tree. "Finish telling me," he said continuing through the woods in a new direction.

"You can put me down now," she said.

"I could," he deadpanned. His eyes were fixed ahead of him.

Sookie rolled her eyes. She could protest, but she didn't actually mind. "Remember those tickets we bought?" she asked. Preston nodded. "Well," Sookie continued, "Pearl organized some Renard Parish Softball Charity to raise money for the Bowdon Family. They're in desperate need of help with their son's medical expenses."

"Yes, I remember that part."

"Well, that's today. We're playing for Merlotte's."

"We're playing for the Shifter."

Sookie sighed at the dubious expression on Preston's face. "Play nice," she demanded. "No fairy stuff. This is supposed to be fun."

His brow arched. "Fairy stuff?"

"Don't play innocent," she glowered. "You know what I mean." Without glancing at her, he more sensed her glare. He suppressed a smirk. She was sufficiently distracted not to notice that he had sped up his pace. "You've got to play human for a few hours. No supernatural or magical stuff allowed. That goes for the fairies and shifters."

"I can vouch for myself, but not the others."

"I've already talked to Claudine. Claude is not allowed to use magic. Ya'll are going to play authentic humans for a few hours. It isn't going to hurt you."

"Yes, my sweet." Preston came to a sudden halt. His brow furrowed.

"What's wrong?"

"It stopped." He let out a frustrated sigh. This had happened each time he had tried to track down the source of what he's been feeling.

"What do you mean it just stopped?"

"Whoever was out there is either gone or they stopped."

"I'll check," she said. "Put me down. It works better if you're not touching me." With Preston touching so much of her, his essence had the tendency to drown out all other telepathic activity.

Gently, he lowered her to her feet. She took a few steps away from him giving him a reassuring glance. Turning to face away from him, she relaxed her mind. Her telepathy worked much like a Fishing Net or a radar system. If it was a _'someone'_ creating whatever energy Preston was picking up, it had been outside her range. Every mind, be it human or supernatural, emitted an aura. Perhaps now that they were farther away from the house and closer to the source, she would pick something up.

It took only moments.

"That's weird," she whispered. Whoever it was, their thoughts were concealed from her, but it was both the denseness, the color of crocus, and the energy their mind put out that was unlike anything she'd ever come across before.

Preston closed the short distance between them. He lightly touched Sookie's shoulder.

"Someone's here." She met Preston's eyes. Just then, a few yards from where they stood, a man appeared in a cloud of smoke. Sookie gasped.

Preston instinctively stepped protectively in front of her. It was a djinn. By the exotic markings emblazoned over its flesh it was a marid, the most powerful and dangerous of its kind. The sight of him set off instant alarms for Preston. Djinn were well known for being extremely unpredictable and were lethal enough that even the fiercest races gave them a wide berth. What Preston didn't understand was what a marid was doing in Bon Temps. Marid djinn were akin to the seas.

"You may call me Malik," said the djinn. His voice resonated with a strange guttural accent.

Preston's thoughts churned. The name sounded peculiarly familiar. "You can call me Preston." He hesitated.

From behind Preston, Sookie studied Malik. He stood tall and alien like at the center of a perpetual cloud of mist. She wasn't sure if he even had legs. What part of him that she could see was covered in strange blue-violet tattoos, which he wore like a shirt.

"And your companion?" Malik's attention fixed on Sookie. His obsidian eyes appraised the quality of her form, which was partially visible from behind Preston. He liked what he saw. Suggestively he said, "Step out so that I can admire you." His effeminate hand, with long nails and fingers, waved her forward.

Sookie's eyes locked on the motion like a cat sighting a mouse. She felt a pull. Her heart raced with anxiety. A thick haze of magic wafted around her. Wide eyed she glanced up at Preston gripping his hand like he was her life raft; her anchor to what was real.

Preston's free hand fisted at his side. He could feel what the djinn was attempting to do. "She's my mate," he firmly replied. His jaw twitched.

Sookie could hear the forced control in his voice. Her gaze darted up to Malik's face. The warm Louisiana breeze played through his long hair; the color of black aubergine. Sookie wondered what his hair would smell like. Tentatively, she stepped around Preston and stood at his side. The strange pull she felt made her tighten her hold on Preston's hand afraid of what she would do if he wasn't anchoring her. Seeing the intense look in Malik's eyes, Sookie was momentarily relieved that she wore jeans and not shorts. Yet, under Malik's disturbing gaze, she felt it wasn't enough. She wished for a parka or burlap sack to cover up with.

"I'm Sookie Stackhouse." Her throat was tight. She wanted to ask '_What are you?' _and _'How dare you try to glamour me!', _but she hesitated just long enough to catch the words before they rudely escaped her mouth.

"Greetings Sookie Stackhouse." Malik's voice vibrated through her, sending an uncomfortable shiver down her spine and into her nether region. Alarmed, Sookie's other hand gripped Preston's forearm. She pressed herself against him. Amused by Sookie's reaction, the djinn looked menacingly at Preston. He gave him a pompous nod of his head. "You seek passage through these waters?"

Sookie was momentarily confused, until her searching gaze spotted the stream just behind the man.

"This is our land," Preston said.

"No," Malik sharply replied. "This is Tassenocogoula* land."

"What do you seek?" Preston asked cautiously. Every cell of his body was still on alert. He didn't trust the djinn even for one moment.

Malik let out an ominous laugh, which confused Sookie. She wondered if he was crazy. Her eyes went from Malik to Preston. There was nothing humorous in Preston's question, which made her worry. Whoever this strangely beautiful man was, she was certain that he was not on anyone's side but his own.

"Dead things like this place," Malik commented, ignoring Preston's question.

"Have you been summoned?" Preston asked. The djinn seldom roamed this realm. This concerned Preston. Someone in Bon Temps, a powerful magician, had gained power over him; otherwise why would it be here? He wasn't sure which was more dangerous, the beast or the thing that called the beast.

"Such a shame." Malik's heated gaze scanned Sookie. Was he not bound, he would have welcomed momentary servitude to her. "You're short for a fairy," he added as an afterthought. His pointed tongue darted out serpent like over his lower lip, tasting Sookie's chemistry. "She is quite alluring."

"What are you...?" Before Sookie's words fully left her mouth, the strange cloud of smoke suddenly evaporated.

He was gone.

* * *

><p><strong>*Definition:<strong> Tassenocogoula was an Indian tribe that inhabited a region in northern Louisiana close to where I believe the nonfiction town of Bon Temps is located.


	5. Chapter 5

**AN:** _I want to thank **slcurwin** for beta-reading for me. :D She's been a lifesaver. Her feedback has really helped. I've reposted all previous chapters. I do recommend you re-read chapter 4; other than that I don't think you'll miss anything essential. Please note that in my revisions any mistakes in grammar, spelling, or continuity that you find are completely mine._

_**Posted: **6_/6/11_**  
><strong>**Update: **7/3/11_

* * *

><p><strong>5<strong>.

"What was that?" Sookie pointedly asked.

Since Preston hauled her out of the woods and back to the house as if the woods had caught on fire he had been reluctant to answer her questions about the creature named Malik. He actually had outright evaded her questions.

"It's a mystical creature." Preston scanned the parking lot for an available spot. Their trek through the woods had put them behind schedule for the rest of the morning. They were late to the Bon Temps baseball park. It was packed, making finding a parking spot difficult. It seemed as if every last resident of Renard Parish had gathered to watch the local businesses go up against one another in a Round Robin.

"You already said that." Sookie shook her head in frustration. "What kind of mystical creature is he exactly?"

"An unpredictable kind," he absently replied. "It can take any form and any size."

"_What_ is he?" she asked for what she felt was the trillionth time.

"You're probably more familiar with the term genie."

"That was a genie?" Sookie sounded dubious. "Like rubbing a lamp and granting three wishes kind of genie?" The image of his serpent like tongue darting out of his mouth made her shiver uncomfortably.

"Yes. Not really. Sort of." Preston pulled the car into a spot and cut the engine. "He's dangerous."

"Dangerous? You mean dangerous to us?"

"We're late," he pointed out as he stepped out of the car. Since Sookie was adamant that he had to play an authentic human for a few hours, teleporting was out of the question. So instead of arriving on time, they were twenty minutes late and Merlotte's softball team had already started their first game without them.

"Why is he dangerous to us?" she demanded. Preston closed the door. Sookie growled, unbuckling herself. She stepped out of the car and gave him a meaningful look. He had been unenthusiastic about playing baseball with and for Sam all week, and now he was so eager to the point that he couldn't focus long enough to answer her questions.

"Come on," he said not meeting her eyes. "I'll buy you a hot dog with the sweet green stuff you like."

"You can't ignore me forever," she warned him. "You're going to answer my questions the sooner the better or else." She stopped walking.

It took a few more long strides before Preston realized she wasn't following him. He turned around and was met by her hard gaze a few yards away. Her arms were crossed over her chest.

"It's hot Sookie," he called out to her. "You'll make yourself sick."

"Then answer my question."

Preston sighed deeply and slowly approached her. He didn't want to talk to her about this. The word djinn alone held power. Some fairies believed the djinn could gain control over persons who spoke of them out loud. Preston didn't want to fuel Malik's power by talking about him or his kind. Perhaps Sookie would think he was superstitious, but he couldn't discredit the stories he had heard of since a boy and what little he'd already shared with Sookie was a risk in itself.

He came to stand directly in front of her. "Can we not talk about this right now?" He spoke in an undertone. "Please."

She pressed her lips tightly together. For several long moments Sookie considered her options. Though she was frustrated and eager to have her questions answered, she knew this wasn't the best place for this conversation. Reluctantly, she nodded her head. "I hate this," she said through gritted teeth. "Can't any supes ever give a straight answer?"

Preston reached his hand out to touch her. Sookie swatted it away. If she let him touch her, his touch would scramble her thoughts, and she would get lost in her need for him. "It isn't fair," she muttered softly. She stepped around him and marched toward the bleachers.

"Great," Preston said more to himself since Sookie couldn't hear him. He followed in her wake glad that she wasn't looking at him. A smile spread across his lips. He was enjoying way too much the way she filled out her baseball pants.

Sookie spotted Claudine sitting in the shaded bleachers area. She made a beeline for her while Preston went to the concession stand for a hotdog and Sprite.

In field one, Claude's strip club, _Hooligan's_ was playing against a shifter owned construction company, _Norcross_. In field two, Claudine's flower shop, _Garden Patch _was playing _Merlotte's_.

Claudine sat in the shade watching the game. Next to her was her mate, Colman. Sookie was surprised to see him. Claudine had told her that he didn't care for life on this side of the portal or for human companionship. He spent most of his time in Faery, but Claudine loved being with humans.

"Hi Colman," Sookie greeted him.

"Sookie," he replied. His eyes darted to Preston who was making his way behind her. "Preston, it's been a while."

Preston nodded to Colman and briefly turned to Sookie. "Here you go." He gave her a boyish smile. His cheek dimpled, and Sookie felt herself soften.

"Thank you," she said. Her voice was gentle. She took his peace offering. Preston's fingers lightly touched the side of her cheek. He was rewarded with a small smile, which he automatically returned. He drew in a sharp breath and took the bench one level above where Sookie sat next to Claudine.

"When did you get here?" Preston asked Colman who came up one level to sit next to him. As the two male fairies conversed, Sookie hugged Claudine.

"You feel different," Claudine said. Her expression was gleeful.

"Hot and sweaty; sorry about that," Sookie apologized.

"No, it isn't that."

"The baby is getting bigger." Sookie beamed wistfully admiring Claudine's belly. Though the yearning in her gaze was fleeting, it didn't escape Preston's notice. "How much longer do you have to go?" she asked.

"Three more months."

"Don't forget, baby shower, my place in two days."

"It isn't necessary, really."

"Well, it's a human tradition, and anyhow, this is your first baby. It's cause for celebration."

"Claude and Niall asked if they could come." Claudine smiled.

"Oh, I guess—I mean sure... I didn't think they'd want to come."

"They would love to," Claudine chimed. "Claude has never been an uncle before. He's very excited."

Sookie arched her brow.

Claudine padded Sookie's knee. "Claude loves children. He's very good with them."

"Really?"

Leaning closer, Claudine whispered, "All fairies love children. They are so rare now." Her voice saddened at the thought.

"Then we really have a good reason to celebrate. Let Claude know he's invited. I'll let Niall know too."

"Oh, thank you Sookie. It will make them very happy. Yes!" Claudine sprang upright, cheering merrily. To Sookie's amazement she whistled. Her team had scored a homerun against Merlotte's.

Grinning, Sookie quietly ate her hot dog as Merlotte's eventually won by one point against the Garden Patch.

"So," Sookie paused to take a drink from her soda. The hot dog didn't seem to agree with her. "I thought the _Garden Patch_ wasn't going to play today."

"I couldn't pass up the opportunity to come to Bon Temps," Claudine said gaily despite her team loosing. She lowered her voice and said, "There's been some unusual supernatural activity in the area."

Sookie tensed. Her eyes darted to Preston. "How so?" Sookie asked.

"Claudine." Colman's voice was harsh. His prejudice against humans surfaced in his tone. He believed fervently that fairy affairs were never be to discussed among non-fairies. He touched Claudine's shoulder firmly.

"It's Sookie." Claudine looked at him placidly.

"She's my mate," Preston stated giving Colman a fixed glare. From one bench below him, he felt Sookie rest her hand on his knee. He covered her smaller hand with his.

"Preston's been picking up something too," Sookie whispered.

Claudine and Colman's attention darted to Preston. He silently groaned. This wasn't a conversation he was prepared to have. Several long moments of silence passed. Their gazes never faltered. Giving up, Preston scanned the crowd of humans surrounding them. A second later, Sookie sensed a haze of thick magic surround their little party, and almost instantly no one around them paid them any attention.

"I've made a few inquiries," Claudine spoke softly. "But so far nothing that would explain the recent activity."

"We met a genie in the woods near the house," Sookie replied. Preston glanced at her. His handsome face tensed. Lightly squeezing her hand, he looked to Colman. A large part of him, he embarrassingly admitted to himself, was afraid the djinn would actually hear him.

With a weary sigh Preston whispered, "Malik."

Colman's back stiffened. The name had instantly registered with him. The last he had heard of Malik he had been entrapped by a powerful shaman. Since then, no one had heard of or had seen him. Colman thought perhaps the marid had returned to his realm. "Is his purpose malevolent or benevolent?" he asked.

"I don't know," Preston answered. "Does it matter?"

"This is not good," Claudine breathed. She gently patted Sookie's knee. "The shifter wants you I think."

Sookie and Preston both turned to see Sam eyeing them. Making eye contact, he waved them down.

"Have fun," Claudine chimed.

With Preston at her heels, Sookie climbed down making a straight line to Sam.

"You made it," said Sam.

A sudden wave of nausea swept over Sookie. "I'm going to be sick." She rushed past Sam toward the bathrooms. There was a line. "Oh god," she groaned. Frantically her eyes searched for a solution. Sookie made a dash toward a trashcan and not a minute too soon. It had been forever since she remembered throwing up. She hoped in the future she could avoid it again as her body convulsed emptying the contents of her stomach. Her eyes watered as she dry heaved for what felt like an eternal minute.

From her seated spot, Pearl saw it all. She hurried down and over to Sookie. "Oh, Sookie, you poor thing," Pearl cried out. She reached into her tote and pulled out some napkins and a bottle of water. "This should help," she told Preston. He was hovering helplessly over Sookie.

"I need to sit down," Sookie moaned.

"She should get out of the sun," Pearl suggested. "I'll get a chair." She disappeared only to return moments later with a folding lawn chair.

"Thank you." Sookie allowed Preston to guide her into the chair.

"Here." Pearl handed Preston the impromptu cold pad she made from napkins and water. "Place it against the back of Sookie's neck." Preston gently padded Sookie's neck. "Here you go." Pearl knelt in front of Sookie and handed her a bottle of water. "Sip on this."

"Is she alright?" Sam asked. He came up next to Preston. "I got this from Holly. She's manning one of the concession stands." He handed Preston a Ziploc bag filled with ice.

"I'm fine Sam." Sookie smiled wearily at him. "I think the heat got to me."

"Hydration is very important," Pearl said. "I don't think you should push your luck. Maybe you should get home and out of the heat."

"I think that's a good idea," Sam said. "Don't worry about things here. Jannalynn and her friend can fill in for you and Preston."

"Sookie?" She looked up at Preston and nodded.

"I've got one of my mother's recipes for heat exhaustion," Pearl explained. "I'll bring it by."

"That would be nice." Sookie gave her a weak smile.

Preston leaned over and took Sookie in his arms.

"I can walk," she said.

"I think you should let Preston carry you," Pearl said.

"Girl, I saw everything." Tara had spotted Sookie getting sick in the trash can. As quickly as her condition would allow her, she wobbled over. "Are you okay?"

Sookie blushed fiercely. She wondered how many people had witnessed her _disgrace_. Throwing up into a smelly trash can on a hot, muggy Louisiana summer just wasn't graceful. "I'll be fine," Sookie croaked. Her throat had that just threw-up rawness.

"Are you pregnant?" Tara gave her best friend a pointed look.

"No," Sookie snapped. Preston felt her tense in his arms. "It's just the heat."

Though Sookie dismissed the idea, Preston wasn't blind. He noticed that despite her happiness for Tara and Claudine, there was always a note of melancholy in Sookie's eyes after spending time with them. He knew her longing for a child would become more acute when Tara and Claudine would come by with their infants.

Though they hadn't tried for a child yet, Preston was nervous. He had never given a human woman a child before, and he wasn't sure if he was capable. This made him uncertain of what he would do when Sookie would ask him for a child. The thought of not being able to give her the gift of life in her belly ate at him in a bad way. Fear of not being able to deliver in this most essential way, made him apprehensive and in many ways it made him feel a lesser man.

"Hope you get to feeling better," Sam called out.

"Well, you should probably let the doctor take a look at you," Tara advised.

"I'm fine _really_." Sookie scanned everyone's faces and gave them a reassuring smile. "I just need to get home."

"Good idea," Pearl agreed. "No sense in dallying around in your _condition_."

Sookie groaned miserably. If it wasn't bad enough already with Halleigh, Tara, and Claudine being pregnant and their condition drawing attention to her own childless state, but after her episode over the trash can, by dinner time everyone in Bon Temps will think she was pregnant.

"_Great,"_ Sookie miserably thought.

"We'll check on you later," Pearl said sounding concerned.

Sookie rested her head against Preston's shoulder. "I want to go home," she whispered. Though she was starting to feel better by the minute, she wanted and needed the comfort of being surrounded by her things. Not to mention that she wanted to get away and hide.

Preston wasted no time heading toward their car. He had the inclination to teleport her home, but after her episode it was perhaps not the best option, so the car would have to do.


	6. Chapter 6

_**Posted:** 6/12/11  
><strong>Updated: <strong>7/3/11 _

* * *

><p><strong>6.<strong>

Since most vampires who met their final death at the hands of drainers were discovered during the day, as Area 5 Investigator* and a vampire himself, Bill was accustomed to being the last on the scene and in most cases that involved studying crime scene photos and forensic reports at his desk, and occasionally questioning potential witnesses in efforts to confirm the identity of any John Does. So tonight, he wasn't quite sure about the correct investigative etiquette. He was about to enter a fresh crime scene.

In a tastefully decorated hallway, Bill stared at a steel front door. His eyes darted to either end of the corridor searching for any clue as to what he should do next. He wasn't sure whether he should knock on the door or let himself in. It was Ian Warren's penthouse, and since Ian was a vampire, technically Bill didn't need an invitation to enter the home.

He drew in an unnecessary breath. "Here goes nothing?" He gripped the door knob and turned it.

His date with Pearl had been interrupted by a phone call. It was the Sheriff of Area 5, Eric Northman, with news of another dead vampire. Eric was furious. In addition to his maker Appius and his vampire brother Alexi's visit; the pressure from Victor Madden, the regent for the Vampire King of Louisiana; Victor's new club, Vampire Kiss, draining revenue away from Fangtasia, he now had a serial vampire drainer in Area 5.

Six vampires killed over the last four months; all in Louisiana. Philip de Castro wanted the drainers captured. A special Louisiana Area Investigators Task Force was created only weeks ago. Finding and killing the serial drainer was put on the Area Investigators priority list.

"Mr. Compton." A well dressed woman stood up from her seat. Her voice was raw and eyes red from crying. She self consciously ironed the front of her tailored skirt with the palm of her hand. "I'm Sarah Ellison, Business Aide to Mr. Warren." She paused, struggling to compose her voice.

Bill waited patiently, avoiding eye contact. The airy room though spacious didn't afford much privacy. Bill's keen eyes cataloged the scene in the living room. Everything was in meticulous order. No sign of a struggle, which he almost expected. Bill wondered if they had straightened up. His highly developed sense of smell picked up no chemicals.

"Excuse me. I do apologize." Sarah's sad eyes darted to the well-groomed gentleman to her left. "This is Étienne Bessette, Mr. Warren's Personal Concierge."

"Mr. Compton." Étienne's French accent was thick. "Thank you for coming on such short notice."

"Yes," Sarah said. "The Sheriff said we would be in capable hands."

"When did you find him?" Bill asked.

"I found him this evening," Étienne answered. "When he didn't rise at sunset, I grew concerned. I waited as long as I could before I entered his room."

"Has anyone been in the room since you first discovered him?"

"I had to see for myself." Sarah averted her eyes. "I…I didn't touch anything," she said earnestly. "I had to make sure Étienne wasn't mistaken. It was I who phoned the Sheriff."

"Did you touch anything Mr. Bessette? Clean up anything?"

"No. I'm not a housekeeper." He sounded offended. "When I rose, I went about my usual chores. I did some pressing and picked up Ian's tuxedo from the dry cleaners. When I returned just before sunset, I warmed Ian's blood so it would be ready for him when he rose.

"Was the housekeeper here today?"

"No. She only comes three times a week. Today was her off day."

"Does Mr. Warren live alone?" Bill asked.

"Yes, if you don't include me," Étienne answered. "I stay in my own living quarters separate from Ian's living area."

"Did you hear anything? Did he have any visitors last night?"

"He had a dinner engagement scheduled yesterday." Sarah pulled out a leather organizer from her briefcase. "Ms. Montgomery, Elizabeth Montgomery."

Bill's brow arched slightly. He recognized the name. Elizabeth Montgomery was a very old and powerful vampire. "I'll need her contact information," Bill absently said. "As well as the name of the location he met Ms. Montgomery at." While he was at it, he also wanted Ian's personal computer and laptop. He put that request on his checklist.

"Of course, I'll see what I can do," Sarah replied.

"Did Ms. Montgomery come here?" Bill directed his question to Étienne.

"I do not think so," Étienne hesitated. "Ian told me to take the evening off."

"Did you stay in last night?"

"I…I had a small dinner at the Adagio Café."

"What else did you do last night?" Bill watched a drop of perspiration trickle down the side of the Frenchman's forehead. Bill had a feeling he was hiding something. His lack of eye contact and accelerated heart rate were suspicious.

"I came home…watched television...and fell asleep reading."

"Alone?"

"Yes, alone," Étienne snapped.

"Was Mr. Warren home when you arrived?" Bill asked. His manner was unaffected.

"If he was I do not know. It was my night off. I used my private entrance when I came home."

Bill was going to want the grand tour of the penthouse, including Étienne's quarters, but for now it would have to wait. _"One thing at a time,"_ he reminded himself. "Did you hear anything?" Bill asked.

"No Mr. Compton."

"What about you Ms. Ellison? Where were you last night and this morning?"

"I worked until ten thirty and then went home _alone_ to my cats Mr. Compton." Bill resisted the urge to arch his brow. "My neighbour heard me and came over and borrowed a corkscrew. You can contact him and confirm my alebi, that is what you call it, right?" Her voice hinted at an accent that had faded a long time ago.

Bill studied her light green eyes. She looked fragile in a delicately beautiful way. "That's right," he said. "What about this morning?"

"This morning at seven I went into the office to review a few agenda items for a nine thirty meeting with the Pentel Group. You can contact the Warren Co. and the Pentel Group. They will confirm I was in a meeting for two hours, followed by a luncheon with Mr. Coles and Mr. Pametor to review the specs for a new offshore well. Afterwards, I took care of random concerns Mr. Warren had regarding the construction project in Belize. There were some delays that I was following up on. Following this I took care of a few financials and at the end of the day I met with Cassandra, Mr. Warren's decorator to arrange the delivery of new wares for Mr. Warren's New Orleans home. It was during this meeting that Étienne called me. I rushed over here as soon as I could." She paused and swallowed hard. She averted her eyes as she kneaded her hands. The white tips of her manicured nails caught Bill's eye. "I called Mr. Northman almost immediately."

"Have either of you contacted anyone else?"

"No," Étienne adamantly replied. "This is a vampire matter. We have only notified the Sheriff."

Bill suppressed a smile. He made a few notations in his small notepad for future reference.

"His sister did contact me," Sarah added. "She could no longer sense Ian and was concerned. I couldn't keep this from her."

"I understand," said Bill. "I'd like to see the body?"

"Right this way," Étienne said.

"If you can just point the way," stated Bill. "You can both wait here."

"Of course," said Sarah. By the frown on Étienne's face, Bill knew the Frenchman wasn't pleased, and Bill just didn't care. He had planned a romantic night with Pearl on his coach, a glass of blood for him and a glass of wine for her, and a black and white Alfred Hitchcock classic. Instead he had to manage a sensitive Frenchman and a murder scene.

Bill made his way toward Ian's bedroom. The airiness and spaciousness of the main living area was a stark contrast to the corridor leading to Ian's bedroom. The hallway narrowed and the ceiling dropped. The dark penitentiary gray of the hallway repelled any light that dared to spill into the long uninviting corridor. The repressive walk down the length of the long hallway ended with a dark heavy oak door.

_"Another one," _Bill thought cynically. The thick medieval door was in pristine condition. He placed his hand on the doorknob and turned it unsure of what he would find inside. So far, as far as Bill could see, there were no signs of a struggle. Whoever killed Ian Warren had been a welcomed guest and not an intruder or a stranger. Could he have known the drainer or drainers?

Bill stepped inside. Not even a sliver of light penetrated the vampire's den. Bill was cocooned in nothingness; a dark silence. His eyes took only a fraction of a second to adjust to the muddy darkness. There was nothing out of the ordinary. Not even the scent of blood, which was strange. Bill reached out through the dark and turned the light switch on. The room was instantly flooded with white light. Blinking once, he turned around to face the rest of the room.

Laying at the center of the bed was a nude and emaciated Ian Warren. His left arm was resting across his abdomen. The other arm was resting beside the body at an angle. One leg was bent and leaning in. The bed sheets and covers were tousled. Bedside lamps were intact, the neatly stacked books were undisturbed, and a glass vase of fresh violets untouched.

Carefully, Bill stepped closer. The cap toe of his leather shoe dinged against a glass. He stepped back and looked down. Kneeling, he lightly dragged his two fingers against the wool carpet. Bill took a short inhalation. It was water. Gingerly, he raised the glass smelling for any traces of poisons and found none. It had been filled with clean water. Leaving the glass where he found it, Bill straightened and examined the body.

He had never seen anything exactly like what he was seeing now. At the Louisiana Area Investigators Task Force meeting he had seen slides of the other victims, but it paled to the reality. Unless a drained vampire was left for daylight, they couldn't die from exsanguination, but studying Ian's withered corpse that is exactly what had happened. His lifeless eyes were haggard and cavernous and his face pinched of all flesh. He was nothing more than a skeleton with a wrinkled leathered skin covering it. There was no muscle mass to be found anywhere on his body.

Bill leaned in careful not to touch it. From the task force meeting and the reports, if the body was touched it would disintegrate. He inhaled tasting the air around the dead vampire. When he reached near the open and hallow mouth, Bill paused. It was faint, but he picked up a sweet scent. His brow furrowed. The scent was faint and unlike anything he had ever come across in his long life.

A sudden cold shiver crept along Bill's spine. He shuddered. In a flash he stepped away from the body. His breaths were shallow and loud.

_"This is crazy,"_ he told himself. Shaking off the eerie feeling, Bill scanned the room. Once he gathered all the information he could, he pulled out his iPhone and began to take photographs of the scene. It would be up to his superiors whether this kill would be reported to the human authorities. For the sake of inner species affairs, the humans were brought in for only four murders. As expected, the humans rode-in in their typical American John Wayne fashion. The Vampire Coalition was in an uproar, insisting that vampires be assigned to the case. While their vampire politicians dealt with the human bureaucracy, two vampire murders had been kept from the humans. The Vampire Counsel formed the Louisiana Area Investigators Task Force. This was a vampire matter and not a problem for the humans.

Turning the light off, Bill closed the door.

"Well?" Sarah anxiously asked. "Do you know who did this?"

"Not yet."

"Of course," she smiled weakly. "What happens now?"

"First I'd like to inspect the entire penthouse."

"Of cour—," Sarah was interrupted.

"Absolutely not!" Étienne roared.

Bill narrowed his gaze on the Frenchman.

"Ma chère." Sarah gaped at him. "Qu'est-ce que c'est?"

"This is Ian's home." His accent was so thick that Bill had to concentrate. "I won't have a stranger touching Ian's things."

"We have to be reasonable Étienne, s'il vous plait," Sarah pleaded with him.

"Au cours de mon corps!" Étienne shouted.

"Then so be it." Bill took the Frenchman up on his offer. His sharp fangs extended and Bill lunged at him. The Frenchman screamed throwing his arms up to protect himself. It took everything for Bill not to roll over on to the floor laughing. He was going to glamour the man. Étienne was hiding something, and Bill was now determined to find out what it was.

"What are you hiding?" Bill's voice took on a hypnotic allure.

"You cannot glamour him Mr. Compton." Sarah sounded matter-of-fact. Bill's gaze darted to her. She looked at him consolingly. When he turned to look at the Frenchman, he was unaffected. "Étienne is Ian's bonded and is thus immune," she explained.

Bill hid his confusion. If it was true, Étienne should be feeling the ill effects of being severed from his bonded, but he looked healthy and unaffected. Yet, there was more. With Ian dead, it would make the Frenchman susceptible to glamour, but he wasn't.

"Ian kept a fresh supply of his blood on hand." Sarah's voice sounded soft and sad. "He said it was for our own safety incase anything ever happened to him we could wean ourselves off with minimal side effects."

"Sarah and I are both bonded to Ian," Étienne said.

"That's impossible."

"Not impossible Mr. Compton," Sarah said. "It is only rare. Ian was special." Étienne burst into tears. "Mon amour." Sarah took the Frenchman into her arms. "Though Ian was not much older than you Mr. Compton, he was a powerful vampire; a true master vampire."

"And neither of you felt him die?" Bill was skeptical. He needed to get inside their heads.

"We no longer fed directly from Ian," Sarah explained. "When he started having us take his blood from refrigeration, it lessened our sensory connection to him."

Bill exhaled audibly. "_This wasn't good_," he privately lamented. He wasn't human and he didn't need to breathe, yet he couldn't stop himself. "Stay with him while I take a look around," he said.

"No," Étienne wept into Sarah's shoulder.

Ignoring the Frenchman, Bill searched the penthouse. After half an hour, he hadn't gained any useful information. He only hoped the personal computer and laptop he took from the penthouse would prove to be more helpful. Otherwise, he was stuck, for the only two people who might hold the key to who killed Ian were both immune to his glamour.

As Bill drove home, passing Sookie and Preston's driveway, he had a flash of inspiration.

* * *

><p><strong>*Definition<strong>

**Area 5 Investigator - **_"I was trying to think of ways to keep us safe from Eric...I knew if I were an official, like Eric, it would be much more difficult for him to interfere with my private life...I'm Fifth Area Investigator..." _**Dead Until Dark**,_ paperback, May 2001, page 290 & 291_


	7. Chapter 7

**Posted: **6/23/11  
><strong>Updated:<strong> 7/3/11

* * *

><p><strong>7.<strong>

"If you fail me Bill." Eric's voice rose from the speaker sitting on Bill's desk. His irritation was evident in his heavily accented syllables. Bill pictured Eric's human façade peeling away to reveal his true nature.

Bill understood Eric's frustration. Victor Madden had given him 48 hours to prove his brother's innocence. Victor was convinced that their drainer was Alexi, Eric's vampire brother. Alexi had gone missing a day or two around each of the last two vampire murders. It could be a coincidence, but it didn't matter. Victor, who'd been gunning for Eric for months now, was taking advantage of the witch-hunt fervor this mysterious vampire killer had ignited. Alexi's lack of an alibi was just ammunition to get at Eric. As far as Bill was concerned, Eric was allowed to make threats.

"If Alexi meets his final death, you will pay with your life," Eric growled.

Bill said nothing. He wasn't one of Eric's flunkies. He was an official like Eric. As an Area Investigator he was not subject to Eric's authority in the same way his employees or child were. Bill answered directly to the Vampire King, as did Eric until Victor Madden was placed as regent. Now Eric had to answer to Victor, which Eric resented and with good reason. Thankfully, all Area Investigators in Louisiana still reported directly to De Castro. If their positions were switched, Bill knew he would react as Eric, which made him ever more grateful that he had ran for Area Investigator three years ago. He had done it to protect himself and Sookie from Eric.

"What are your theories?" Alexi asked. His voice suddenly rang out causing feedback from the speaker phone. Bill was momentarily surprised to hear him.

"Step back," Eric barked.

"Why is it screaming?"

"Step back Alexi."

The feedback from the speakers stopped. The sound of shuffling could be heard followed by a low sharp screech of a chair being dragged.

"You do not need to speak directly into it," Eric explained, sounding tired. There was more rustling coming through the speakers. "What are your theories Bill?" Eric asked.

"Beyond the emaciated corpse, I found no puncture wounds," Bill replied.

"Did you check the groin?" Eric asked.

"Not without touching the body," Bill explained. Eric cursed. Without being able to move the body and thoroughly inspect it for puncture marks, they were no closer to determining the identity of the killer than they were days ago.

"What now Investigator?" Appius asked. The ancient vampire's voice was calm and resigned the way vampires sounded when they had lived too long.

"Ian had two humans bonded to him," Bill replied.

"Impossible," Eric stated.

"Not impossible my son," Appius said. "Only a rare ability."

"I tried glamouring them, but it didn't work."

"Of course not." Appius gave a longsuffering sigh the way a parent would when a child tried something that was bound to fail. Bill imagined the ancient vampire leaning over the speaker phone in Eric's home office. The mental picture was strange considering that the ancient vampire still lived as in the old days: sleeping in graveyards and feeding directly from unsuspecting humans.

"So what next?" Eric asked.

"Sookie."

Eric huffed. "Not possible," he sardonically replied. What he was dying to say were several choice curses against fairies, but he held his tongue. The last thing he needed was for Alexi or Appius to get the notation to feed off of and drain a partial fairy. He was already up to his neck and preferred to keep his head above it all.

"I don't understand," Bill admitted.

"The protocol for an audience is meant to dissuade any _official_ requests," Eric cryptically said. If it were the Area 5 Sheriff or another vampire bureaucrat, it could take months of red tape; however, if it were Sookie's _friend_, Bill, asking for help, well that was another matter entirely. "I understand you are on speaking terms still."

"Yes," Bill slowly replied. "I actually have a drafted contract to drop off."

"How fortuitous, wouldn't you say?" Eric asked.

"I'll let you know if we find anything." Bill disconnected the call, gathered the contract, and casually made his way toward Sookie and Preston's.

**.**

"Tell me what to do?" Preston asked Sookie. He held her hair back as she crouched over the toilet in their bathroom. Nothing was staying down. Sookie tried to glance up at him. Her strong and powerful fairy was beside himself with worry.

"I'll be fine," she assured him. The inside of her throat was raw, making it feel like she was swallowing sandpaper. She reached around to pat Preston.

"That's what you've been saying all day."

Sookie took the fresh wash cloth he offered her. "We'll see how I feel tomorrow." Her voice was gruff.

"Please," his expression was heartbreaking, "Let me call someone."

"Who are you going to call? It's the middle of the night."

"I don't know." Preston desperately glanced around the bathroom. "You don't even sound like yourself." His fingers ran through his hair disheveling it. It should have made him unsightly; instead it made him attractive in that messy way a surfer on his board looked waiting for the right wave to come in. His tawny eyes suddenly lit with a brilliant idea. "Claudine will know what to do."

"Claudine is pregnant; you let her sleep," Sookie ordered.

"Then I'll call Niall. He will know someone."

"Sweety." Sookie straightened. Her open hand glided soothingly up and down Preston's arm.

"I don't have a fever. The queasiness has passed. Let's just wait and see how I feel in the morning."

"I may not know much of how humans work, but this," Preston waved his hand between Sookie and the toilet, "Is not healthy," he insisted. His stubborn jaw twitched.

Sookie buried her face in the wash cloth and groaned with frustration. It was a miserable sound.

"What's wrong?" Preston's heart rate spiked. His body readied for a battle he didn't know how to fight.

"Get me some ice," Sookie croaked, wanting to give him a purpose.

Preston sped away.

Taking the few seconds of peace the errand would give her, Sookie brushed her teeth. Though her throat was a bit raw, she couldn't stand the taste of stomach acid for one more second. With her toothbrush between her lips, she stared at her reflection and tried her best not to groan.

_No wonder Preston was acting the way he was,_ she thought. She'd never been sea sick before, but Jason had, and the way he looked when they were kids out on that boat in the Gulf of Mexico all those years ago, was exactly how she'd felt off and on all day, and she looked it.

"Here you go." Preston held out a glass filled with ice cubes.

"Thank you." Sookie smiled at him in the mirror, splashing water on her face. Dropping her toothbrush in the holder next to Preston's, she dabbed her face dry, then took Preston's offering. She relished the cool sensation of crushed ice in her mouth and the soothing coldness coating her throat as she swallowed.

"Better?"

Sookie nodded her head, mumbling the affirmative. For now the queasiness had abated for what Sookie hoped would be for good.

Suddenly their attention was drawn to the front of the house. The happy chime of the doorbell filled the house.

"Bill." Sookie announced through a mouth full of crushed ice.

.

Congregated at the heart of the house, the kitchen, Preston and Bill quickly reviewed the commercial lease Bill had drafted up. Under Sookie's encouragement, Preston had decided to open a gallery.

As the two supernatural men hunched over the paperwork, Sookie uncapped a bottle of TrueBlood. "Darn," she mumbled under her breath. Synthetic blood had spilled over her fingers.

Preston stopped midsentence and turned toward her. His body vibrated with readiness and dread that she was about to have another episode.

Sookie didn't notice that the conversation at the table had stopped. Without thinking, her tongue flicked out licking away most of the blood. She inserted her fingers, one at a time into her mouth and glided them out clean. She placed the bottle in the microwave not realizing what she had done. Bill and Preston noticed.

"Sookie?" Preston asked, sounding perplexed.

"Yeah?" Sookie turned to look at him; an empty glass in her hand. "You still want some sweet tea?"

"You don't have to." Preston spoke as he went to stand in front of her. His brow creased. With the pad of his thumb, he reached out and wiped a drop of blood from the corner of her mouth. "I can do it. You should rest."

"Don't." Sookie's tone was low and short.

He leaned into her and whispered, "Are you sure?" Lightly, he touched the side of her cheek. Her essential spark that resided deep inside her, danced excitedly from the contact. That part of Sookie that was fae responded to the touch of her mate. It was instinct, biology, magic; it reached out like an invisible hand caressing Preston like silk running over the length of his own spark. Preston drew in a deep breath.

He was about to break the contact when Sookie stopped him.

"Honey." Sookie rested one hand on the back of his wrist. The thrill of their essential sparks touching traveled up his arm. "I'm fine, really," she insisted. "If you want to keep me that way, stop fretting," she ordered. The microwave dinged. Turning away from him, Sookie retrieved Bill's blood. "Here you go Bill," Sookie chimed.

"Are you well Sookie?" he asked.

"Don't you start too." Sookie placed the TrueBlood in front him with more enthusiasm than she intended. Her gaze turned on Preston. She could sense he was still reeling from the effects of her contact. Stifling a grin, she secretly was pleased she could cloud his mind with need. "Sit," she ordered. The regal quality of her voice allowed for no refusal. Preston instantly wondered if perhaps she was spending too much time around the Prince.

A bright smile on her face, the one that some people had labeled her _crazy smile, _she poured Preston a glass of iced sweet tea. With her own glass, she sat down at the table between the two men.

"So Bill," she causally said. "What was it you needed to talk to me about?"

"I'm sure you remember when I ran for Area Investigator?" Sookie nodded and Bill proceeded to remind her of the responsibilities that came with being an Area Investigator, as well as, his involvement in the Vampire draining investigation. "You see," said Bill. "There has been another death."

"Dear God. How dreadful," Sookie breathed. "It wasn't anyone I knew?"

"No, you didn't know him personally," Bill explained. "I was there earlier this evening, which is what has brought me here this evening."

"You think Sookie is your drainer?" Preston asked not hiding his sudden displeasure in his tone.

"Of course not," Bill responded defensively. "Nothing like that."

"Then what do these _drainers_ have to do with us?" Preston asked.

"Nothing," Bill answered. He proceeded to explain Sarah Ellison and Étienne Bessette to them. "One possible side effect to the bonding is immunity to glamour, which in this situation is the case. I'm certain they hold the key that may help prevent any further killings."

"You want me to read them?" Sookie asked. She wanted to help, but she had some reservations.

"There is pressure from all directions to stop the killings," Bill explained. "Philip de Castro has made it our top priority. Vampires in Louisiana have grown paranoid. Many are secluding themselves in their homes. Victor Madden has been inciting a witch hunt and has targeted Eric's brother. Eric has in turn made threats if I fail to find the true culprits."

"Eric has a brother?"

"Yes," Bill answered. Since Sookie's attachment to the fairy Preston, her involvement in his world has been nonexistent, and he was glad for the latter. Despite everything in their past, once he had fallen in love with Sookie, he had wanted nothing more than to shield her from his world. Where he had failed to protect Sookie, Preston had and for this Bill was forever grateful. He took a few moments and brought Sookie up to speed on the visit and situation of Eric's maker and his vampire brother.

"This is bad," Sookie breathed. She was genuinely concerned.

"So you would like Sookie to read your suspects?" Preston asked.

"Her help could stop the killings," Bill stated.

"I understand how difficult the situation is for you and your kind," Preston said. "But," his tone turned razor sharp, "The fae do not interfere with vampire affairs."

"Only when it suites them," Bill retorted. The superior tone of Preston's voice and words put Bill on the defensive. A quick exchange of sharp words passed between them.

"I think that's enough." Sookie's voice was calm and just loud enough to be heard over the two men. She rose from the table to retrieve the pitcher from the refrigerator. With the poise of a Southern Belle, she turned her charm on Bill. "Would you like another blood Bill?"

"No thank you," Bill replied graciously.

A part of her, buried beneath the surface of her consciousness, she was disappointed. Brushing away the strange inclination, Sookie self-assuredly stood next to Preston with the pitcher in hand.

"I'm fine," he said. She ignored him and topped off his glass. In a flash he removed his hand avoiding having it showered in sweet tea.

Sookie's eyes possessively raked over his features visible to her from her position. Driven equally by biology, magic, and her emotions, her essential spark reached out toward him. Preston's gaze fixed on her face.

"Thank you," he said. His voice was a warm whisper.

With a spring in her step, Sookie replaced the pitcher in the refrigerator before taking her seat. She was pleased with herself.

The two supernatural men sat silently, exchanging several unsure glances at one another.

"What are the chances that I might find something awful in their minds?" Sookie asked. If she was likely to see something horrendous, she didn't think she would be able to help.

"Awful?" Bill asked.

"Well," she paused. "I guess what I'm asking is will I see something that might give me nightmares?"

"I don't like this." Preston stated immediately.

"Noted," she said meeting his gaze unblinking. For the first time since she started getting sick, she was feeling frisky. She had plans for him tonight.

"I can't say," Bill answered. His voice drew Sookie's gaze away from Preston. "I don't have any reason _not_ to suspect them. There was no sign of struggle at the scene," he said and then quickly added, "Or in any of the photos of the other scenes for that matter. They must have known the drainers." He shook his head. "None of it makes sense."

"Let me think about it," Sookie said.

"Will she be exposed to other vampires if she does this?" Preston asked.

"Me," Bill answered.

"And what of _your_ king?"

"I may be subject to De Castro's authority, but he is not _my_ king," Bill answered. "I'm not here for him or for the Sheriff. I am here for myself."

"I'm not saying yes, and I'm not saying no," Sookie explained. "How soon do you need my answer?"

"Each day that passes, is another opportunity for the drainers."

"I understand," Sookie solemnly said. "I'll let you know tomorrow."

.

After Bill's visit, Preston and Sookie were silent as they readied themselves again for bed. In the privacy of their bedroom, laying next to Preston, Sookie broke the soundless tension left from Bill's visit.

"Say what you're dying to say," Sookie whispered.

"Being around vampires is dangerous."

"And?" she asked certain that there was more to it than that.

Silence stretched between them, making the darkness even darker. The humming of the ceiling fan suddenly felt amplified as did Preston's even breaths. The sheets rustled. Sookie turned onto her side to face him. Though she could only see the outline of him in the darkness, he radiated with life, so that Sookie sensed him more than anything else. Unable to control her own spark, she felt the moment it caressed Preston. His breathing broke into a new rhythm. She was about to apologize, but her words were stifled in her throat by Preston's voice.

"If you're with child," he started and then stopped. His words were a strangled whisper. "You're not well."

Instinctively, Sookie reached through the darkness and touched him. Pressing herself against him, she wrapped her arm around him tightly. Where her body touched his, he felt her essential spark reach down inside him, stroking, and filling him. Preston swallowed a breathy moan from the contact. Sookie was marking him again.

"You're afraid for me?" she asked, already knowing the answer.

"Yes." His heart raced.

"Baby." Sookie drew herself onto her elbow so she could cup his face with one hand. She kissed him several times gently, letting her lips guide her in the darkness. "Nothing bad is going to happen to me."

"It's always. Dangerous with vampires."

"Bill won't let anything happen to me."

Preston's hand glided between them, resting on her soft belly. "What about?"

"I'm not pregnant," Sookie sadly admitted. All the telltale signs of her period were right on schedule. She couldn't be sure, but if she was pregnant, she was certain she wouldn't be having PMS.

"You're not?" His hand lingered on her belly.

"Do you want me to be?" Sookie asked tentatively.

"I think so…yes," he breathed. Silently he hoped it would be possible.

"But we're not married yet," she said moving to straddle him.

"I am," Preston gasped. He gripped her waist with both hands to steady her gyrating hips.

"What does your wife think about you living with another woman?" Sookie teased. Leaning over, she kissed him. She felt Preston smile under her lips.

"What do you think?" he asked her, running his hands under her sleeping gown and along her thighs and over the curve of her hips. Like every other time when he touched her since they returned from Faery, he was marking her with his scent and his essential spark.

Sookie drew in a long slow inhalation. "She'd like to practice making babies," she whispered. Preston inhaled sharply. Her warm wet tongue explored his ear, darting in and out quickly and then more slowly.

"You're not…feeling well," he struggled to say.

When her essential spark intimately touched him, it was always more than enough to get her in the mood. Privately, she prayed she wouldn't have a sudden episode, because she had a hunger and she wanted to feed it.

"Trust me," she said, pressing herself wantonly against him. "I'm very well."

"I still don't like you around vampires."

"I know," Sookie moaned. Preston's fingers massaged her seductively. "I love your hands," she breathed.

Coating his finger with her pleasure, his keen sight studied her face as it relaxed with dreamy bliss. "You like this?" He glided inside her.

Sookie answered with a whimpered moan

"Take your touch piece*." Preston had forged a small magical object resembling a worn down coin. It served to alert Sookie of danger when she wore it.

"Okay," she grounded out breathlessly. Her hips writhed under Preston's attentive ministrations. "Like that," she half cried out, tilting her hips to welcome his intrusion more deeply.

"Are you sure?" he asked.

"Shut. Up," she ordered.

.

* * *

><p><strong>*Definition<strong>

**Touch Piece**_ – see Unwrapped Chapter 23_


	8. Chapter 8

**Posted: **8/21/11

**AN:** _I haven't forgotten this story. Sorry for the delay. I had to make sure I was on the right track before posting these. My beta hasn't taken a look at these chapters since my last revision. If I need to, I'll update these chapters at a later time. In the meantime, Enjoy!_

* * *

><p><strong>8.<strong>

A half hour outside of Bon Temps, the rain started coming down in sheets. Bill turned clockwise one of the handles on the side of the steering wheel. Three clicks and the windshield wipers began a steady _swish-swash_ beat. This and the sound of the engine and the tires on pavement were the only sound other than Sookie's beating heart and soft inhalations. Occasionally, another vehicle would pass by in the other lane going east. It was late, even for humans; most were already comfortably tucked in their homes for the night.

Sookie's attention was focused on the vanilla file with the word PRIORTY in red ink stamped on the cover. For the last several miles, she had been riveted on the reports and on the photographs inside the file. In the close confines of the car, Sookie's scent wafted around Bill. He inhaled her aroma slowly and deeply like a man savouring the bouquet of a fine Brandy or tobacco. Her scent and energy invigorated him. Just sitting next to her in the close proximity of his car, he felt stronger and better. She was more fairy than he had realized before, and he understood Preston's reluctance tonight, and wouldn't have expected any less than the fairy's threats should Sookie receive as much as a scratch or bruise.

Quietly, Sookie tucked the contents of the file back into its folder and closed it. She had finished. Her thoughts churned, processing all the information she'd read. She stabbed the dome light, shutting off the light that had been illuminating the dark interior.

"I don't understand how they could have died." Her voice ended the long silence that had filled the car since Bill turned onto the highway heading to Shreveport.

"Neither do I," he admitted.

"Vampire's don't typically die from being drained, right?"

"I've never heard of it. The only way for a drained vampire to die is if they're left for the dawn, staked, or beheaded."

"It's almost like…like they've…well…" Sookie paused for a few moments, searching for the right words. "If I didn't know better Bill, I'd think they just had their souls sucked right out of them, literally."

"It would seem that way to me as well." _If vampires had souls,_ he thought.

"Can another vampire do that? I know ya'll can do different kinds of things. Is this one of them?"

"If it is," he replied. "It isn't an ability I have come across in my nearly two hundred years; not even while compiling my database."

Sookie nodded, but said nothing further. They resumed their silent drive just as Bill switched lanes and exited the highway. Sookie was lost in her thoughts working out all the information she'd read. Bill glanced over at her and smiled. He was pleased with his friend. He was eager to hear her theories. He had always admired Sookie's active mind. It had been a long time, by human standards, since he had had the opportunity to enjoy her company alone. He could have driven faster, but he drove to Shreveport at a normal speed prolonging his time alone with Sookie.

"When the Rattrays drained you," Sookie commented. "You only looked paler, not this ashen-purplish color." All the vampires in the photographs she had noticed shared not just the same withered mummified appearance, but a similar coloring.

"True," Bill replied. "I've seen a few drained vampires before, but none of them with that strange coloring."

"That's something then, right?" She looked over at Bill expectantly.

"Yes, but exactly what it means, I haven't figured out."

"Can a silver sword do that? Wait. None of the vamps had wounds—nevermind." Sookie tapped her lip with her fingernail. She looked at Bill; an eager expression lighting up her face. "What about poison? Silver poisoning maybe." Her brow furrowed. "Can vampires be poisoned?"

"Silver poisoning, yes, but it does not explain the coloring."

"Rats," she mumbled. "Absently, she chewed on her fingernail. "What would make these vampires turn ashen-purple?"

"That's a good question, Sookie; one I do not have an answer to."

Sookie leaned back in her seat feeling a bit disappointed. They had a clue, but what good was it if they didn't even know what it meant.

"You think the two humans we're going to see might know why?"

"Yes."

"Ok." A renewed sense of determination colored her voice. "So what's the plan?" Since she started dating Preston, there had been a rift that was created between her and the vampires and their world. She hadn't worked for a vampire since before Preston, and she missed her old friends; missed using her telepathy, but she understood the reason for the rift. Preston was a fairy and her own chemistry had changed, because of being around him. It wasn't safe. Vampires and fairies were like oil and water.

The last time she had had the chance to use her telepathy purposefully was when she helped Claudine hire a store manager for her flower shop. To Sookie's surprise, it came effortlessly, much more easily than when she use to read for the vampires. She was looking forward to stretching her telepathic muscle again.

"I spoke with Sarah on the phone," Bill informed her. "I explained that I had a few more questions for both her and Étienne."

"Do they know you're bringing me?"

"They will soon enough."

"Are you going to tell them I'm a telepath?"

Bill turned his attention from the road and glanced at Sookie. He studied her for a fraction before returning his gaze to the dark road. "Yes," he answered emphatically. "Perhaps they'll tell me what I want to know."

Sookie's brow arched. "Unlikely," she said. "Most people don't want to believe what I can do even when it's right in front of them."

"We'll soon find out their reaction."

Bill gestured to the building on their right as he drove past it slowly searching for a parking spot. It was still raining steadily, but there wasn't a parking spot close by. Around the corner, Bill found a vacant metered spot.

"This is the best I think we're going to find."

"It's okay Bill. A little rain won't hurt." She was glad she had opted to wear her pantsuit. It was one of her splurges from her last vampire job. She stepped close to Bill, who held out an umbrella for her. As quickly as her legs could carry her, they hurried around the street corner and into the building.

"It's raining cats and dogs out there," pointed out the concierge-security guard. "How are you folks this evening?"

"A little wet, but fine." Sookie smiled.

"How can I help you folks tonight?" he asked.

"We're here for Ian Warren," Bill replied. He shook off the rain from his umbrella and closed it.

"If you folks will wait a minute," said the guard as he flipped through a binder. "Your names?" Bill answered the guard's question. "Oh yes. I have you listed here. Go right in." He gestured.

"Thank you." Bill guided Sookie toward the elevators. The guard watched curiously after them. Sookie's mental shields were down and the guard's thoughts were coming in loud and clear. Ian Warren hadn't had many visitors since getting sick.

"Did you question the guard?" Sookie asked Bill. The elevator chime dinged and the doors opened.

"No, he wasn't at his post last time. It was very late."

Sookie made a mental note to question the guard when they came back down.

"Will you need to touch them?" Bill asked remembering how she always found it easier when touching someone she wanted to read.

"A handshake would do, but it'll go faster if I can touch them."

"Yes, of course. I'll take care of it." Sookie's brow angled at hearing Bill's words. The elevator chime dinged again, and the doors opened. She didn't comment. They stepped out of the elevator and came to stand in front of a steel door. It was Ian Warren's penthouse. Sookie padded her palms against the sides of her bun. Bill hesitated at the door long enough for Sookie to notice. She glanced up at him. He kept his eyes on the door. He was hoping that there wouldn't be any emotional outbursts from the Frenchman this time. Bill rang the doorbell. Several moments later, the door opened.

"Good evening Mr. Compton." Étienne's thick French accent was not as heavy as it had been on their initial meeting.

"This is Ms. Sookie Stackhouse. She's assisting me with the investigation."

"Good evening Ms. Stackhouse."

"Sookie please." Her smile was bright and charming. She held out her hand. Étienne hesitated, but took her hand in greeting, returning her smile.

"I'm Étienne Bessette. The circumstances are most dreadful, but it's a pleasure to meet you." He opened the door wide. "Please come in." His gaze shot to Bill. "We've been expecting you Mr. Compton." He stepped aside and motioned for them to enter. His smile slipped away and his eyes narrowed at Bill. That little detail did not escape Sookie's notice. His thoughts matched the look he gave Bill; distrust and dislike. Sookie hid the smirk tugging at the corners of her mouth. Étienne found Bill unrefined and uncouth. She didn't agree. She thought Bill very old fashion with formal manners to match.

The hallway opened onto a wide expanse. Sookie took in the spaciousness of the penthouse. It wasn't what she was expecting. It was a modern urban space decorated with modern streamlined furnishings. She personally thought it lacked character and warmth, which she preferred her home to have.

_Too much white, _she thought. Wishing that Bill would have taken the lead down the hallway, Sookie hesitated. She looked behind her and caught Étienne's gaze.

"Please, take a seat," he encouraged her gesturing to the white sofas. Sookie smiled and walked toward the sofas. She found Étienne's thoughts surprising. She'd almost expected the familiar male thoughts she always heard from men about her physical appearance, but Étienne was different. He found her friendly and pretty. There was nothing sexual in his thoughts or feelings toward her. He was more likely to prefer Bill sexually than her, and most of all he had preferred Ian Warren. He was in love with Ian. The sense of grief Étienne felt was all too familiar to Sookie. Her heart ached. She was familiar with grief. She'd felt it most acutely when her Gran had been killed. It was strange she thought how, to her telepathy, grief had its own flavor and feeling.

Sookie took a seat and Bill followed her sitting next to her. Étienne took the matching seat across from them. Just then a pristinely groomed woman walked in with a tea set. "Good evening Mr. Compton." Sarah's tone was gentile. Sookie noticed a faint accent in the woman's voice. She studied her for a moment. Her mind was quiet, unlike Étienne's.

"Ms. Stackhouse, this is Sarah Ellison," Étienne introduced the two women.

"Good evening Ms. Stackhouse." Sarah filled each tea cup on the tray.

"Sookie please."

"Sookie." She smiled. "I hope you like tea. Milk and sugar?" Sookie accepted both and took the dainty cup, while Bill accepted the glass of blood. Bill didn't sip at it, which left Sookie unsure if she should be concerned about her own drink; after all, their hosts were their only real suspects. She stared at the tea inside her cup.


	9. Chapter 9

**Posted: **8/21/11

* * *

><p><strong>9.<strong>

"I understand you have more questions for Étienne and me," Sarah said.

"Sookie is a telepath," Bill replied.

Sarah's hand stilled. Her cup perched closely to her light colored lips.

"We have nothing to hide Mr. Compton," she replied. "It was quite unnecessary. You simply need only to ask your questions."

Sookie touched her lips with the cup, feigning a sip.

Sitting across from their suspects, Sookie's mind was inundated with images from the Frenchman. A woman. Dark hair. Sookie couldn't get a good look at her face. It was from a distance that Étienne had seen her. Sookie glanced to the opposite side of the room and to the small hallway that led to a staircase. He had been standing there, hiding, when he saw Ian and the woman. Whoever the woman was, it was clear that Étienne was jealous and hurt by her presence.

"If you don't mind, give me your hand?" Sookie looked directly at Étienne.

"Pardon me?" he asked.

Sookie reached her hand across the small acrylic coffee table between them. "I won't hurt you. It helps narrow down what I'm hearing and seeing."

"I'm not sure about this." He glanced nervously at Sarah. His expression was fearful and desperate. He leaned away from Sookie's outstretched hand.

"Let her Étienne." Sarah placed her hand on his knee and gave him a light squeeze. "We discussed this. Do it for Ian." This last part softened the Frenchman. After a short moment he reluctantly turned his gaze from Sarah and toward Sookie. His eyes fixed on her hand. Slowly, he held out his hand. Sookie took his wrist; her thumb and forefinger didn't touch.

At the contact, a flash of embarrassment colored Sookie's cheeks at hearing Étienne's thoughts. Compared to his soft hand, Sookie's was rough, he thought. She wondered if Preston found her hands unlady-like, coarse, and barbarian. Brushing the thought aside, Sookie navigated the menagerie of Étienne's thoughts looking for anything that might prove remotely helpful. There was so much information racing through his mind.

"Who was the woman that you saw Ian with on his last night?" Sookie asked. Étienne jerked his arm away from Sookie's, but not before she saw how he and Ian had met.

From the movie like snapshots Sookie had glimpsed at, it was like watching slides of images from the 1940's. From his memories, Étienne had been in his late twenties when he had met and became Ian's lover. This was during the war, which made Eitenne old enough to be her grandfather.

"How's it possible?" Sookie mumbled staring at the man across from her.

"I will not be a party to this," Étienne angrily spat. Some of his tea splashed onto the rug.

"Étienne," Sarah pleaded with him, but it did not stop Étienne from passionately storming out of the room. "I do apologize, Mr. Compton, Sookie." Sarah and Bill both stood to retrieve Étienne.

"It's okay," Sookie assured them while her hand stayed Bill. "I got what I needed." The contact, though short, was enough for her to glean what they had come for.

Étienne was a jilted lover filled with regret, embarrassment, and such a profound sense of grief it stole Sookie's breath. Ian had stopped sharing his bed with him several months ago, leaving Étienne feeling rejected, unloved, and unattractive. Ian had met someone, who Étienne assumed was a woman; the woman Sookie saw in his thoughts. The blow to his self-esteem and security were obliviated.

Étienne's emotions ran as deep as they were strong. He was almost paralyzed with pain and betrayal. Ian had been the love of his life; Étienne's everything. He had been angry with Ian the last time they spoke. Angry words had been exchanged. He wanted to stake them both, but then he found Ian dead. His grief was engulfing him. But it wasn't these details that confounded Sookie.

He should have been an old wrinkled man who used a walker to get around. Instead he looked to be in his late thirties. It had been Ian's blood and Étienne's bond to the vampire that had slowed, almost stopping his aging. Though he had stopped taking Ian's blood directly, Ian still fed from him. It was still an exchange regardless, keeping Étienne bound to Ian and likewise.

"You have what you need?" Sarah asked, unsure how it was possible.

"Yes," Sookie answered.

"How?" Sarah's expression vacillated between curiosity and restrained awe.

Bill reached out and touched Sookie's hand. "He didn't do it," Sookie replied. Étienne had wanted to keep his rejection secret. Not even Sarah had known that Ian had recently stopped taking him into his bed. "He didn't have anything to do with Ian's death," Sookie added. "Étienne may have wanted to hurt Ian, but he didn't want Ian dead. He loved him. He was Ian's bonded."

"Yes." Sarah sat down; her sad eyes darting to the small hallway Étienne had escaped into. Turning to look at Sookie, she said, "Shall we." She wanted this over with. She extended her hand across the clear acrylic coffee table. "Étienne needs me."

Sookie nodded and took her wrist admiring the white tips of her manicured nails, which made Sookie more acutely aware of her own lack of polished stubby keratin. She decided that tomorrow she would pay a visit to the nail salon in Bon Temps.

Touching Sarah, Sookie was only barely able to make out the woman's quiet thoughts. Sookie wondered if under different circumstances if she and Sarah would have been friends. Unlike Amelia, whose thoughts practically screamed at Sookie, it would have been nice to have a friend whose thoughts were quiet, barely a whisper, like Sarah's.

"Bill?" Sookie asked, not looking at him.

"What do you know of this woman Étienne saw Ian with?" Bill asked Sarah.

"Nothing," Sarah replied. "Ian and I have not been lovers for at least a hundred years when his appetites had turned to men."

"I don't understand," Sookie mumbled.

"You look surprised to know how old I am," Sarah pointed out. She would have expected that as Bill's assistant, Sookie would have been familiar with vampires. "I was bonded with Ian when I was very young. I was a simple peasant and Ian was dashing and worldly. We became lovers." Sarah's voice took on an air of recollection. "We had a passionate relationship. Though Ian's blood kept me young, it did not keep me from aging. After fifty years, when I began to look more like a thirty year old woman instead of the sixteen year old girl I had been when we first met, Ian wanted to turn me. I almost agreed." She paused; her memories took her far away to a time and place that no longer existed. "I may have seen and learned many things Ms. Stackhouse, but in matters of the soul, I was still that peasant girl. In the eyes of God, I was a sinner for being lovers with a vampire, but even sinners fear losing their eternal soul."

"But how is it possible?" Sookie asked, looking perplexed.

"Regularly consuming vampire blood can considerably slow the aging process," Bill replied. "It's a risky practice." Sookie's expression was filled with unspoken questions. Before she could ask, Bill said, "There is always the strong possibility of turning or creating a Renfield. It has happened before."

"I see." Sookie's voice was soft. "So what will happen to you and Étienne now?"

"We are weaning ourselves from dependence on Ian's blood. We have enough of his blood in stasis to get us by for only a short time. The almost silent hum that was Ian's life is being replaced with perfect silence; a silence that is most maddening I assure you." Sarah's eyes glossed over with a sorrow unparalled with anything Sookie had ever experienced. "If Étienne and I can endure this period of adjustment, we will live out our lives and will one day join those who have died before us."

"Did Ian ever mention to you meeting a woman; for any reason?" Bill asked.

"None besides the names I gave you already," Sarah replied.

"Computer dating?" Sookie spoke out loud. The thought in Sarah's mind was fleating, but Sookie had caught it. "Is that how Ian met the woman Étienne saw?"

"I don't know Ms. Stackhouse. It is possible. I know that Ian had a membership to _vHarmony_. Though he could have also met her at one of the many functions he attended."

"Why didn't you share this information with me on our first meeting?" Bill asked barely masking his displeasure.

"You didn't ask Mr. Compton," Sarah answered, her tone and expression nothing but innocence. Sookie could hear from the woman's thoughts that she was sincere. She really did not think it was useful information. Not only that, but Sarah Ellison had been entrusted to safeguard Ian's private life and his pristine image.

"I asked if you knew anything that could be helpful." Bill's jaw clinched.

"I didn't think the fact that Ian was on _vHarmony_ was a crime or for that matter anything that could have proven useful." Sarah was a picture of retrained anger. Sookie was impressed. Bill was infuriated. "Besides, Mr. Compton, he would have been matched with human women," Sarah pointed out. "Ian is…was a vampire. What danger could a human woman pose to a vampire as gifted as Ian?"

"What other of Ian's personal habits do you think may be unhelpful?" Bill's contempt for the woman was unmistakable.

"Mr. Compton." Sarah's tone was cool, but Sookie could hear the woman's thoughts colored with anger. Her restrained fury had left her thoughts unguarded, flooding Sookie's mind with information. Sookie was always amazed how people could have dozens of thoughts racing through their minds at any given moment.

"I don't see how itemizing Ian's habits could be useful." Sarah's tone was firm. "His life was filled with mundane details of no significance. He had no more or no less enemies than any other vampire."

"Ian gave his blood to v-drainers?"

Bill's gaze shot to Sookie.

"What?" Sarah gaped at her. She had the urge to draw her arm away from Sookie. "That was a long time ago."

Ian Warren's taste had often wondered into BDSM, which often involved having his partners feed from him.

"But you suspected he still did sometimes." Sookie observed. Bill's hands fisted at the revelation. On the surface, for the most part, he kept his anger hidden. However, his vampire control was gradually unraveling with every piece of new information Sookie revealed. What else had these two humans withheld from him?

"I may have suspected it Ms. Stackhouse, but it does not mean they were based in reality."

"No, it doesn't," Sookie conceded.

"Was there anything else, even remotely that seemed unusual to _you _regardless of whether it was based on 'reality'?" Sookie picked up on the barely veiled sarcasm in Bill's voice.

"Why were the bank transactions usual?"

"Ms. Stackhouse," Sarah said. "You are quite unnerving."

"I've been told that before. I don't mean to frighten you."

"Can you answer Sookie's question?" Bill steered the conversation back, fearful that Sarah would go off on a tangent.

"The transactions in themselves were not uncommon; however, the fact that he made several large cash withdraws so close together _was_ unusual. But I didn't question Ian about it. His signatures were on both transactions."

"Why do you suppose he did this?" Bill asked.

Sarah shrugged. "I really don't know Mr. Compton. I wish I had an idea. Perhaps, he was making a secret purchase for Étienne."

"Ian loved surprising us with lavish gifts." Étienne's accented voice came from the side of the room. Sookie and Bill turned abruptly to stare at the Frenchman. He was leaning against the hallway opening.

"Do you know the names of the v-drainers Ian did business with?" Bill asked him.

"It was a long time ago Mr. Compton." Étienne tried to remember something about them, anything. Sookie followed ahead along the path of that particular memory.

"The Bat," Sookie said.

"Yes." Étienne shot Sookie a wary look. "I never understood why Ian called him that."

"Our permanent residence was in New Orleans at the time," Sarah volunteered. "He came over a few times." Sookie got a clear picture of the man from both Étienne's and Sarah's memories.

The Bat was a vampire.

"Ian always wanted me to stay and watch." Sarah shook her head. "I couldn't. I found it repulsive."

Sookie saw the images of Ian encaged in what Sookie's inexperience recognized as BDSM with a vampire twist, and she didn't blame Sarah. She skirted away from the memory.

"Is there anything either of you can share that may help us uncover the identify of this woman Étienne saw?" Bill asked.

"Nothing, I'm sorry," Sarah answered. "I didn't even know Ian's appetites had turned toward women again. He gave me no indication." She glanced at Étienne. Her expression was sympathetic. She had not known Étienne and Ian were no longer lovers.

"Ian was a very private man when it came to his paramours," Étienne replied. His voice dignified, but Sookie could see the sting he felt. "I saw her only that night."

"Did you kill Ian, Ms Ellison?" Bill asked. He had to ask more for what thoughts and images the question would provoke in Sarah's mind, knowing that Sookie would pick up anything suspicious.

"No." Sarah's lipstick colored lips pressed into a hard line. She drew her arm away from Sookie.

Sookie made no effort to hold on. Bill glanced over at her, and she shook her head. "She didn't do it."

Sarah Ellison was a workaholic. Despite also having been bonded to Ian, he had released her from any romantic obligations, but for fear for his own life should he break their long standing bond, he demanded she continue to take his stored blood; maintaining, at least, a less acute connection. Since then Sarah had strived to maintain a separation between their private lives. At one time, she had loved Ian deeply and though she didn't love him the way Étienne still did, she had cared deeply for him. Ian had been important to her; a part of her body and soul in such a profound way that Sookie couldn't understand it.

"Who do you think killed Ian?" Bill asked. He had asked this when he first interviewed her, but now he wanted to know what Sookie could glean.

"Drainers," Sarah adamantly replied.

"The woman," Étienne declared.

Bill paused before saying, "If either of you remember anything else, as insignificant as you may think, call me." Bill handed Sarah a business card.

"Of course Mr. Compton."


	10. Chapter 10

**Posted: **8/21/11

* * *

><p><strong>10.<strong>

The elevator ride down was quiet. Sookie's mind was working furiously at processing everything she had seen and heard from Sarah and Étienne. She had questions for Bill, but they would have to wait until they were in the car. First, she wanted to read the secruity guard. The elevator doors chimed and opened almost simultaneously.

"I want to read the guard," Sookie reminded Bill.

"Be careful," he warned her, gently taking hold of her elbow. "Ian's death was not reported to the human authorities." Sookie shot him a look.

"Won't anyone notice he's gone?" she whispered.

"The understanding is that Ian has fallen gravely ill, and may not survive."

"Sino-aids."

"Yes." Bill replied.

Sookie nodded her understanding as she turned and smiled at the guard. He was well dressed, she thought. His navy blazer and gray slacks were in pristine condition. He was an older man, fit. Sookie guessed he was ex-military or law enforcement.

"You folks have a good night." The guard smiled congenially at them.

"Has Mr. Warren had many visitors?" Sookie asked. Her facial expression was one of genuine concern and empathy. "I sure hope he has. Family and friends are so important in times like this." Her comment had the guard's thoughts flooding her telepathy with images.

Her heart suddenly raced. Adrenaline pulsed through her body. The woman. Though she couldn't see her face, Sookie knew it was the same woman Étienne had seen; petite, dark hair.

"It's a shame really," the guard said. "Since I heard the news, you folks are the only ones come by except for the doctor. How is Mr. Warren?"

"The prognosis is not good," Bill volunteered. His expression and tone were solemn.

"I just don't understand how he caught it." Worry lines marked Sookie's lovely features. "Did he have many visitors earlier in the week? I do hope someone shared with them Ian's condition. They probably should get checked."

"Is it contagious?" he anxiously asked.

"Just for vampires. It doesn't affect humans."

"Oh." He breathed a sigh of relief.

Sookie could see in the guard's thoughts that he had no idea how to tell a vampire from a human. She wasn't surprised. Most humans couldn't tell the difference, which always amazed her. Unless a vampire showed their fangs or drank blood, most people couldn't differentiate a vampire out of a crowd of people.

"Mr. Warren only had two visitors who weren't regulars this past week," the guard volunteered.

"I wonder if Sarah knows." Sookie glanced over her shoulder meeting Bill's gaze. "Did they check in when they came in?" she asked the guard.

"Mr. Warren had a lady friend a few nights ago, so I didn't get her name and a day or so before that, he had a young man."

As he continued to speak, Sookie watched the images of a young man barging past the guard and to the elevators. He had been fast. Too fast for a human and the guard knew this. He was vampire.

"Who was this other visitor, if you don't mind me asking?" she asked the guard. Casually, she glanced at Bill and met his gaze. Bill tensed marginally next to her. He knew she'd picked up on something important. "We'll need to make sure to let Sarah know right away about that young man," Sookie assured him.

"I'm not sure. It was some punk kid. He and Mr. Warren had a falling out of sorts."

Sookie saw the whole Jerry Springer episode in the guard's memories.

"We'll make sure Sarah knows," Bill assured him.

"Thank you so much," Sookie told the guard. "You have a good night now." She gave him her best and brightest smile. Bill nodded to the guard and escorted Sookie out of the lobby.

Outside, the rain had not let up. Bill held the umbrella over Sookie while keeping her close to his side. "What did you see?" he asked.

"It's all real strange." Sookie hurried her steps. The wind was crisp and blowing against her legs. She huddled close to Bill. She missed Preston. "It's almost as if both Étienne and the guard were compelled not to remember her. I couldn't get a good picture of her face even when they had a clear view of her."

"Glamour?"

"No. Glamour leaves a gap in their memories. They didn't have any voids that I could see. They just had blurry memories of her."

Bill opened the passenger door of his car. Sookie automatically stepped in escaping the rain. When Bill climbed into the driver's side, Sookie picked up on her last thought.

"Ian and some other vampire had had an argument; rather passionately."

"Could you identify the vampire?" Bill asked starting up the engine and the heat.

"I've never seen him before." Sookie rubbed her cold hands together. "He's about my height." She held one hand a few inches over her head. "Dark hair; handsome; young, but that doesn't really tell us much. Does it?"

Bill shrugged his shoulder, pressing his lips into a slant. "There have been new vampires in the area since a year ago. You would not know them."

"If I saw him, I'd recognize him."

"Do you think this mystery woman is a vampire?"

"No. Definitely human."

"How can you be certain?"

"Vampires have an otherworldly glow about them. Humans don't."

"And you can tell this from just a memory."

"Oh, yes. People's memories can be very vivid. Can you put some heat on the floorboard? My legs are cold. If you can get me photos of all the new vampires in the area, I'll know if our vamp is one of them."

"If this vampire is involved in Ian's murder, why didn't he glamour the guard?" Bill absently asked.

"I don't think he had time. Ian rushed out of the building to get him to leave. So what's the plan now?" Sookie enthusiastically asked. She was enjoying assisting Bill with his investigation.

"I'm taking you home and **I** have to go to Fangtasia and give Eric an update." At the expression on Sookie's face, he couldn't help smirk. He thought his grin was hidden by the dark inner compartment of his car. Sookie, however, with her new and improved night vision, saw it. She bit her lip and eyed Bill.

"I saw that," she gave him a pointed look. Bill wiped the grin off his face. "I'm going with you now."

"No, you're not."

"The extra gas, miles, and time is senseless. I'm going."

"Your mate won't approve."

"You let me worry about him."

"Says the woman who's mate will harm said vampire."

"He won't touch you," she confidently stated. "Anyhow, I'm the only one who knows what this vampire looks like. What if he's in Fangtasia right now? You said yourself, every night we wait, is another night we give them an opportunity to kill someone else."

Bill considered her words. Her reasoning made since, but he had assured Preston he wouldn't take her around other vampires. He quickly glanced at her for a moment before turning his attention back to the road. As tempting as it was to take her with him, he wasn't going to give in to her.

"I can't," he said. He stabbed the power button on the car radio.

"Bill." Sookie leaned forward and turned the volume down to a whisper.

"Tell me what he looks like."

"Do you want to catch this guy?"

Bill was silent. He wanted to find their drainers.

"Eric knows what would happen if any vampire gets it in their heads to hurt me – Niall will have him and every vampire in his retinue eating more than just crow."

Bill still didn't speak. In the dark lit interior, Sookie's night vision could make out the details of Bill's features. She could see the conflict. She waited, confident that Bill knew she was right.

"I'm safe Bill."

The drive to Fangtasia was silent. Sookie suppressed a smirk when Bill pulled into the parking lot.

Cutting the engine, he turned in his seat and faced Sookie meeting her gaze straight on. "Stick close to me. Don't touch anything or anyone. Don't speak, laugh, or sneeze. Do we understand each other?" His tone left no room for argument.

"What if I'm asked a question?"

Bill huffed out a growl and exited the car. Sitting quietly in the passenger seat, Sookie watched him as he circled around the front of the car and opened her door. She was going to thank him for getting the door for her, but the expression on his face made her decide against it.

She stuck close to Bill and stayed under the umbrella. The rain still hadn't let up even once since they left Bon Temps. Glancing around the parking lot, Sookie was surprised by how empty it was. Fangtasia had always been busy. Bill had mentioned the other night something about Victor Madden having opened a vampire bar. It seemed, by the look around the lot, that the competition was hitting Eric hard.

Once inside, Sookie's observations were further supported. There was still a small crowd inside, but it was at least half of what it once was; especially for a weekend. Bill had not exaggerated. It wasn't that she had doubted the information he had shared with her and Preston. It was just that hearing a report and seeing it with your own eyes, were sometimes two different experiences.

Silently, she allowed Bill to lead her from the entry way to where she knew Eric's booth was tucked way. Glancing around, Sookie swallowed. She'd noticed how for a breath, the vampires decorating the bar had all glanced at her and Bill before returning to their prior activity. Their thoughts were a murmur, like a cold breeze whispering against her skin.

Before the changes she'd experienced by keeping company with fairies, her telepathy sometimes picked up on the thoughts of vampires. But for the most part, their minds had always been peacefully quiet to her telepathy. Now, they were a faint murmuring in the distance; just far enough to only make out a soft composite whisper. Quickly and instinctually she understood it would only be a matter of simply crossing over the line. With some effort, she knew she would be able to hear them.

She wished now that she would have allowed Bill to take her home. She wondered what Preston was doing at the moment. He was going to be upset, but she'd worry about that later.

Steeling herself, Sookie resumed her search of the crowd looking for their vampire.

Pam, Eric's child and co-owner of Fangtasia, was sitting on the throne. She met Sookie's gaze and nodded her head marginally. Sookie smiled and returned the head bop. She thought Pam looked like sex wrapped in shimmering leather.

Turning her attention ahead, a few feet away, Eric's booth came into her view. He wasn't alone. From their angle, she could only see Eric at the end. The high back of the booth concealed whoever it was he was talking with.

Sensing someone approaching, Eric looked up. For a fraction, surprise then rage flickered across his expression. He wanted to rip Bill apart. He did not want Sookie in Fangtasia; especially, not with Appius and Alexi there. He didn't need this right now. Silently, he groaned.

Seeing the glimmer of distress on his son's face, Appius glanced in the direction Eric was looking.

"Eric," Bill greeted the sheriff. "We just finished at Ian Warren's."

"Ah," Appius exhaled. "Did you solve the great mystery of the vampire drainers?"

Eric's gaze met Sookie's. "It has been too long Sookie. You look well. Let me introduce you to my Maker, Appius Livius Ocella."

"Nice to meet you." Sookie nodded. "I'm Sookie Stackhouse."

"The telepath." He eyed Sookie suspiciously. The smile he had given Bill disappeared. He studied Sookie as if reading her soul. She shifted uncomfortably. Appius smirked. "I've only had the privilege of meeting a few telepaths in my long life," he said. "But I've only had the opportunity of draining one. They are rare."

Sookie steeled her neutral expression. She wasn't sure what to make out of the ancient vampire. She could feel his power brushing and pressing against her.

"This is my brother, Alexei Romanov." Eric gestured opposite him.

Sookie turned to glance around Bill who stood between them.

She froze. For a fraction she didn't breath.

Bill scanned her face. Her hold on his hand had tightened. He was surprised by her strength.

Unblinking, Sookie stared at Alexei. She knew his face.

It was the vampire.


	11. Chapter 11

**Posted: **11/7/11  
><strong>Update: <strong>11/10/11

**A/N: **I won't bore you with excuses; you all have real lives too and know the drill.

A special thanks to my supportive and patient beta, **slcurwin**, who spent several hours helping me work through my block and for making me laugh. I'd also like to acknowledge and thank **Zigster** whose talent and story **"Bourbon & Tea"** unknowingly inspired me to find my voice.

Warning: this is a very long chapter. It started out at 1,800 words. If I don't stop fretting over it, it'll soon be 6,000 words. So without further delay, it's yours now. Enjoy. ^-^

* * *

><p><em><strong>Recap…<strong>_

_* Sookie & Preston are living together and are thinking about having a baby_

_* There's a serial killer in Louisiana draining vampires_

_* Area 5 Investigator, Bill Compton, is investigating the latest murder in Shreveport_

_* Bill's dating the hot Pearl Freeman, Preston & Sookie's neighbor_

_* Sookie gets recruited by Bill for her telepathy to help him with his investigation_

_* After reading the humans at the last victim's home, Bill & Sookie go to Fangtasia_

_* Sookie recognizes Alexei as the vampire she saw in the guard's mind fighting with the last murder victim_

.

~ o * 0 * o ~

.

**Chapter 11**

For a fraction of time, Sookie's heart stopped. It didn't stop long enough to pose a threat, but long enough for every vampire at the table to notice. Six pairs of eyes focused on her. She didn't notice. Her attention was on Alexei. Her hand tightened around Bill's. Her strength surprised him. It was uncomfortable, only the slightest of pain registering.

"Sookie?" Bill tried to sound casual.

A small bead of perspiration slowly glided along the side of Sookie's face. Her sudden elevated vital signs had her perspiring. Her scent was more prominent.

Eric, nearest to her, closed his eyes. He inhaled, and instantly venom filled his mouth. When he opened his glossy dark eyes, he studied her.

Appius licked his lips, his eyes focusing on Sookie's neck where her vein pulsated under the strain of her increased heart rate and blood pressure.

"Sookie." Bill's gaze darted from her to the vampires at the table noting their glazed expressions. Alexei moved closer, pressing himself against Bill's thigh. "Sookie." Bill squeezed her hand. Blinking, she glanced up at him.

"Yes," she replied with a calm control that failed to convince her audience.

"I think you've had a long night." Bill's expression was cautious. "Perhaps I can give you my report after I've seen Sookie safely home." He directed his comment to Eric.

Eric blinked several times. "Yes. Of course." He wasn't completely lost. "Excuse me for a moment," he said focusing his attention on Appius.

"It was entirely my pleasure." Appius smiled. "Has it not Alexei?" he touched the young vampire's arm squeezing it firmly.

"You smell delicious." Alexei's tongue darted out between his fangs and across his bottom lip. He eyed Sookie with more interest than Eric or Bill cared for. "I want her."

Alexei lunged.

In a flash the moment unraveled.

A freight train collided into Bill. The momentum took him off balance, knocking him into Sookie.

In a flash Eric was on his feet. Appius was instantly on Alexei's back.

Sookie hit the ground with a huff. Her head hit the floor with a thump. Everything went white. Hands grabbed at her. Her screams pierced through the loud music. Necessity drove Bill's instincts. He couldn't see her, but felt her beneath him.

He had to get her out.

His fist rammed into Alexei's face. Bones cracked. A howl followed. His face was distorted, becoming a mockery of what a face should have looked like. Bill's fist had left an indentation of broken facial bones.

It didn't stop him.

Alexei savagely clawed at Bill in an effort to climb over him and reach for Sookie.

With a death grip on his child, Appius struggled to pry him off of Bill.

"Stop screaming." Eric growled into the side of Sookie's hair, gripping her firmly against his chest. He dragged her out from underneath Bill.

Not waiting, Bill pulled away from Alexei. He reached for Sookie. It was too late.

Eric had her pinned against him. His mouth on her neck.

"Mine." Bill growled. Sookie's wide eyes fixed on him. All traces of his humanity were gone. Sookie shuddered. She closed her eyes. This wasn't her friend Bill. The vampire in front of her would haunt her every time she closed her eyes.

The sound of a two by four cracking echoed.

Alexei roared in pain. The sound shook Eric from his trance. He withdrew his fangs from Sookie's neck and met Bill's eyes. Whatever Bill had seen in Eric's expression had appeased him. Eric released her. In a blink Bill had her. Not releasing her other arm, Eric hurriedly dragged her and Bill down the hall behind his booth. Bill almost lost his hold on her hand, but he didn't let go.

"You shouldn't have come," Eric snarled. The back entrance door flew open with a swift kick from Eric, hitting the side of the building and slamming shut behind them.

"What did you hope to gain?" Eric growled, pushing Sookie with enough force to send her stumbling against Bill. He caught her and steadied them both, sending Eric a warning growl.

Ignoring Bill's threat, Eric narrowed his gaze on Sookie. "How dare you come into my bar." His voice sent a frightened shiver down Sookie's exposed skin. "You arrogant woman!" His voice was full of loathing. From inside, Eric could hear Appius struggling with Alexei in the hallway. Even with a broken arm and leg, the young vampire was relentless. He wanted Sookie.

"I knew fairies to be egotistical," he snapped out, "but stupidity was not one of their foibles. It must be your _human_ blood."

Sookie stepped out from behind Bill. Adrenalin was still surging through her body. Angrily she replied, "You listen here."

"No Sookie. You listen." He was not impressed by her tenacity. "You made your choice. You are not welcome here unless you're offering yourself for dinner."

"You're an ass."

Eric let out a stout laugh, which was cut short by a loud thump against the back entry door. Appius and Pam were struggling to restrain Alexei. Eric sobered. "Not even Claudine would step foot in this bar. You should take a lesson from her, unless you wish us all dead. Is that what you're doing here Sookie, trying to get us all killed? All it would take is one drop of your succulent blood, and every vampire here will never rise to see another night."

"I'm trying to help ya'll." She shrugged off Bill's attempts to pull her back. "Bill." She shot him an irritated glare.

Eric let out a humorless huff. "Did you really think Bill could single handedly protect you from a room full of vampires in the thrall of your fairy scent?"

"No," Sookie softly replied. "I figured _You_ and Bill would protect me."

"I'm flattered that you think so much of me."

"Look." Sookie let out a loud sigh willing her nerves to settle. There was another hard thump against the back entrance. "What's happening?" she asked staring at the door.

"You need to leave." Eric met Bill's gaze.

"I know it was a risk," she admitted. "If it wasn't important," her words came out in a rush, "I wouldn't have come, but Ian Warren and another vampire had a confrontation a few nights before Ian was killed. That's why I came in. I'm the only one who knows what this vampire looks like. And he's sitting inside your bar right now."

"Who?" Eric demanded. His back stiffened. He looked several inches taller.

"We need to leave," Bill advised glancing at the back door. Despite hearing through the door that Alexei had finally been restrained, he knew Sookie wouldn't be safe until he got her out of there. "I need to escort Sookie home. We can debrief you while we drive."

"Very well." Eric gave an imperial nod. "I will call you. I don't trust myself around her scent."

"I'm sorry." Sookie hadn't meant to make things difficult for anyone.

"Whatever for?" The slightest smile drew Eric's lips back. "You smell absolutely delectable Sweet Sookie."

"Give me fifteen minutes to reach the highway." Bill's voice drew Eric's attention from Sookie's neck.

Without any further words, Bill took Sookie by her arm and quickly led her around the building. In her current state of elevated vitals, her scent was more potent. It was too dangerous to linger any further.

"Do you care to explain what all that was just about?" she demanded. Everything had happened so quickly. She saw Alexei and the next thing she was on the ground and then Eric was holding her and Bill looked like…she closed her eyes. She didn't want to remember the way Bill looked. He was her friend not a monster.

"Sookie." Bill let out an exasperated sigh. "It was Alexei wasn't it? The vampire you saw."

Her eyes widened. "What? How did you know?" she whispered with surprise. Her heart rate spiked the same way it had inside.

"We all heard your heart stop when you saw Alexei. Your heart rate sped up. You began to perspire. Your scent was practically pouring off of you."

"Oh." Sookie allowed Bill to duck her head as she got in the car. Silently, he closed her door. The last few minutes had been a blur of activity. The realization of what could've happened inside hit her. A heavy weariness settled over her heart. When Bill slid into the driver's seat she spoke softly. "I didn't know."

"I know." Bill gave her a half hearted smile and turned the ignition on before plugging his cell phone in to the consol. Several minutes late, just as he pulled onto I-20, his cell phone rang. He pressed a button on his steering wheel. "Eric."

"Is it safe to talk?" Eric's voice boomed over the car speakers.

.

~ o * 0 * o ~

.

"Is this really necessary?" Claude asked. The tree branches overhead provided no shelter from the rain.

Undeterred, Preston did not slow their pace as they made their way through the woods. "We need to see if you can pick up anything."

"Why couldn't we do this tomorrow; during daylight? When it wouldn't be raining."

"The baby shower is tomorrow," Claudine answered her brother's question.

"What exactly occurs at a baby shower?" Colman asked trailing behind his mate.

"You eat food, play games, and receive gifts," Claude replied.

"Oh."

"We need to hurry." Preston told the group. They hadn't arrived as early as he'd hoped. Now they didn't have much time. Sookie would be home soon.

"What did you do with Sookie?" Claude asked, swinging his legs over a fallen tree.

"She's with Bill. It's just over this rise."

"The vampire?" Colman was surprised. "He's an old lover, yes?"

Preston's jaw twitched. "We're not discussing it." He stopped.

"Woe," Claudine's breath rushed out in a whoosh. She swayed. It was Colman's hands on her arms that kept her steady.

"Are you okay?" Claude asked. His eyes scanned his sister looking for any signs of damage.

Claudine nodded. "Too much power," she whispered, pressing her full weight against the front of Colman's body. Her hands protectively went to her swollen abdomen. Her empathic gifts made her hypersensitive to all energy fields; for good and bad. A sudden episode of nausea rippled through her body. "I…I—" She winced.

"Shh." Colman gently stroked her bare arms. "Breath."

"I'll be fine." She padded the back of Colman's hand and gave her brother a weak smile.

"Is it? You know?" Preston asked.

Claudine nodded. "He's taken on too much power. There's no possible way that he can control this much energy."

"That's bad," Claude pointed out. "He's looking for a host."

Colman's gaze met Preston's. With a djinn so close by, Preston and Sookie and anyone within a few miles were at risk.

"It's not all his," Claudine said. The three men stared at her. For several moments no one spoke.

"Why?" Preston's brow tightened. "From whom is he drawing his energy from?"

"Have you or Sookie felt any weakness?" Colman asked Preston.

"No." Remembering Sookie's sudden illness the other day Preston hesitated. "Sookie. She wasn't well."

"Go," Claude told his sister. Claudine had grown paler. By the look of her, it was obvious the energy the djinn was putting off was dark and heavy: death energy.

"I'll take her back to the house." Colman secured his arm around Claudine's waist and lifted her into his arms.

"I'm sorry." She met Preston's eyes.

"There's nothing to apologize for. We'll see you back at the house." Preston nodded at Colman. It was too risky for Claudine to remain any longer. He and Claude watched as they disappeared through the thick woods surrounding them.

"Well, let's get this over with." Claude's expression became focused, determined. He wanted to get out of there - sooner than later.

"There." Preston gestured a yard from their position.

Both fairies stood silently staring at the spot ahead.

"He stood there," Preston spoke first, "where the stones form a half crescent."

"Alright then." Claude confidently strode forward. He crouched near the ground and scanned the stones Preston had gestured to. Methodically, he picked up one. Paused for several moments. Nothing. He tossed the rock out of the way.

As a clairvoyant, Claude was reading the history of the stones, in hopes that it came in contact with the djinn.

He picked up another stone. Studied it. A moment or two later, he discarded it. The stone hit a nearby tree trunk and bounced off landing somewhere in the dark. Preston watched Claude repeat this process again and again.

"Anything?" he asked.

"Patience earth fairy." Claude smirked. Carelessly, he picked up another stone expecting the same thing. Nothing. Suddenly images flashed across his mind's eye. Involuntarily, his hand clinched the small stone. His body went rigid.

"Claude."

He didn't reply. Claude's labored breathing could be heard over the pattering sound of the rainfall. He was motionless.

"Are you alright?"

Silence.

A sound behind Preston drew his attention behind them. He turned. His heartbeat sped up. Standing still and quiet, his eyes scanned the darkness beyond the trees surrounding them. Nothing. He waited, standing perfectly still. The sound returned and grew nearer. He willed his heart to quiet. His eyes dilated further noting every dark shadow. Was it the djinn? Preston wasn't sure. His senses heightened.

Several yards ahead, a small animal darted into the open and then disappeared into a bush. Preston exhaled. Inhaling, he turned to Claude. He was still in the same crouched position. Preston wasn't sure whether to rouse him or not. He decided to wait. He had patience in abundance.

As he waited, the drizzling rain started coming down more quickly. Within minutes he was soaked through. The rich scent of decomposing leaves, branches, bark, and stems filled the air. Preston inhaled deeply. His body absorbed the energy around him. As an earth fairy, this was his natural habitat.

The sweet song of his gift whispered in his ears. He wanted to shift and play in the forest. It was moments like this when he missed the companionship of other earth fairies. Though running with the pack in Baton Rouge on the full moon held its own pleasures, it was not the same as running with his own kind. He'd only been home once since mating with Sookie. If his work schedule allowed it, he would visit again in a month or so.

As his thoughts lingered from his kin to the wolf pack in Baton Rouge, Preston's gaze shifted periodically from one side of the forest surrounding them to the other. The ground around them became too saturated to absorb the rain. Small streams of rain water had formed around them converging with the larger stream where Claude was kneeling.

Preston grew restless in his skin. He wanted to shift, but at the moment it was not a good idea. Maybe later, if he had time he would go for a run. His gaze focused on Claude again, willing him to finish.

"Claude?"

He didn't reply.

Preston knelt beside him and reached out. Claude was a statue. Rain washed over his face; his eyes fixed straight ahead unblinking and unaware to Preston's presence. He waved a hand in front of Claude's face. No response. Claude's wet lashes clumped together. Preston closed his hand around Claude's wrist. With his other hand he pried open Claude's hand and took the stone. He threw it out of reach.

Immediately Claude's labored breathing returned to normal.

They stayed kneeling on the wet ground. Both were quiet. Confusion flitted across Claude's face. Slowly, he gained his equilibrium. He blinked once. Twice. Inhaling sharply, he stood. "Damn." He rubbed his face.

"Can you walk?" Preston asked.

Claude shot him an offended look. "I need something to eat." He sounded gruff. Not waiting for direction, Claude turned and headed back through the woods.

"Well?" Preston asked as he jogged to catch up to Claude.

"Not out here," he scoffed. He kept his eyes ahead, quickly covering ground. Though he wanted dry clothes and something warm to drink, he wanted to get as far away from the djinn as possible.

.

~ o * 0 * o ~

.

"What did you see Sookie?" Eric asked.

"From the front guard, I saw Alexei and Ian arguing," she replied. "The guard didn't hear everything, but what he could make out, I think they were lovers at some point. It hadn't lasted long. Alexei wanted to be lovers again, but Ian refused him. Alexei wouldn't leave, so Ian left and Alexei followed him. The guard didn't see them return."

"When was this confrontation?" Eric asked.

"A few days before Ian was killed," Bill replied. "The last person Ian was seen with was a woman," he volunteered. "Her identity is unknown."

"I couldn't make out her face," Sookie added. "It's almost as if they couldn't remember what she looked like."

"Who couldn't remember?" Eric asked.

"The guard, Sarah, and Etienne."

"Was it glamour?" Eric asked. He wondered if Alexei had planted the memory of the woman to divert attention away from him. It was smart if he did.

"I don't think so." Sookie met Bill's questioning gaze. "I don't know how else to explain it," she shrugged, "but it's not like that time in Dallas or like Ginger with Longshadow," she explained. Eric and Bill hung on her every word remembering vividly the two occasions. The memories strengthened their conviction in Sookie's value. "Glamouring leaves a hole," she said. "Tonight, it wasn't like that. It's like the memory of this woman had faded away."

"What about the guard's memory of Alexei?" Bill asked.

"No." She shook her head. "The memory was clear."

Eric was silent. Every possible deduction imaginable rallied his full attention. He wondered if it was all a coincidence that each time Alexei vanished, another vampire was found dead. Despite Appius' diligence, Alexei had learned how to evade their Maker. He was slippery that way. Eric wondered. Alexei's behavior may have grown more volatile in recent years, but his intelligence hadn't waivered. For several years, Alexei has had a death wish. Could he be twisting the Council's proverbial arm to come after him? To do what Appius has refused to do all this time?

Hearing Bill's voice, Eric returned his attention to the conversation.

Summarizing Bill reiterated, "We know for a certainty that Alexei and this mystery woman were the last people Ian came in contact with."

"Could the memory of this woman have been planted?" Eric asked.

"I…" Sookie paused calculating the possibility and coming up blank. "It could have, but I've never seen what fake memories look like, so I don't know."

"I will speak with Alexei." Eric was sure it was his brother. Alexei had become increasingly unstable over the last year, which was why Appius brought him to Shreveport. He hoped having his sons together would help stabilize him. It wasn't working. If last night's bloody mess hadn't convinced him before tonight, he was now sure that Alexei needed to meet the sun.

The control and authority that was in Eric's voice made Sookie nervous. If she was wrong, she didn't want to be responsible for causing trouble for Alexei or worse. "What are you going to do?" she asked quietly inherently worried

"Sookie, do you think my brother is our vampire killer?" he asked.

"I don't know." She hesitated. "It seems that way."

"To what end?" Bill asked. The _'why' _was always at the heart of things like this.

"What?" Eric questioned him, missing Bill's meaning.

"No one is asking _'Why'_," Bill replied. "At this point Alexei is our most likely suspect. If he's the one who planted the memory of this woman to divert suspicion away from him, it leaves the question of _'why' _did he kill Ian."

"His motive?"

"Exactly." Bill smiled at Sookie. She knew exactly what he meant.

"Alexei has never learned how to gracefully accept rejection," Eric replied.

"Sarah & Etienne can't be glamoured." At Sookie's gentle statement, everyone went silent. Eric was confident there had to be a logical explanation. Perhaps Alexei had glamoured an innocent to play decoy.

The loud sound of the windshield blades moving up and down filled the car.

"Have any missing persons reports been filed?" Sookie asked. Bill stared at her. "Maybe she was the reason why Ian rejected Alexei."

"A jilted lover is a good motive," Eric concurred.

"I'll find out if there have been any missing women reported fitting the mystery woman's description," Bill volunteered. He was on good terms with a Shifter in the Homicide Division in Shreveport.

While Bill and Eric concluded the phone call, Sookie looked past the rain hitting the windshield and into the darkness. Bill took the off ramp leading to the center of Bon Temps. They were almost home. As the lights from downtown Bon Temps drew closer, Sookie went through the list of information they'd discovered.

From the guard's memory of Alexei and Ian's confrontation, Sookie was sure he had something to do with Ian's murder. There had been something in his eyes tonight at the bar; something wild; dangerous; insane. Sookie shuddered. Goosebumps pebbled over her arms. If anyone was capable of mass murder, she was sure that he was.

The drive through downtown Bon Temps was silent. Bill didn't talk and neither did Sookie. The question of _'why'_ continued to linger on in Bill's thoughts.

.

~ o * 0 * o ~

.

"The witch had a Wendigo." Claude spoke with his head inside the refrigerator. Everyone waited for an explanation. None came.

"What witch?" Preston asked. He watched him straighten with a carton of juice in his hands, tipping it up, and drinking.

"The witch," Claude wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, "the one who bound the — _you know who_." He screwed the cap on the carton and placed it back on the rack.

"The witch has a Wendigo?" Claudine asked, confusion registering in her tone. It had been several centuries since she'd heard that term. It was an antiquated word. Vampires were no longer referred to as Wendigos.

"Had." Claude stood with one hand on the refrigerator door. "Do you want those leftovers?" he asked Preston referring to the plate of lasagna with clear wrap protecting it.

"Go ahead." Preston gestured. Claude retrieved the plate and walked over to the microwave. A series of beeps sounded as he pressed buttons before it droned alive. Claude turned and leaned against the edge of the counter where the microwave was stored.

"The Wendigo— the vampire," Claude clarified, "was a captive. The witch had kept him barely alive, feeding off his blood. He almost died, but his den mates rescued him, but not before leaving the witch for—" the microwave dinged. Claude turned around and took the lasagna out. Preston held up a fork for him. "Thanks." Claude self-consciously smiled taking the fork and took a seat at the table. "They left the witch for dead. If it wasn't for _you-know-who_, the witch would have died." He leaned forward and started shoveling lasagna into his mouth. He let out a series of moans.

"So this same witch is the one that bound this," Claudine stopped herself and quickly added, "_you-know-who_."

"Yeah," Claude answered with food in his mouth. "Can I have something to drink?" he asked Preston.

"So _you-know-who _is granting the witch immortality?" Colman asked. He'd been patiently listening as he rubbed Claudine's feet under the table.

"Looks like it. Thanks," he told Preston taking the glass of cola he'd offered.

"How's _it_ regenerating so quickly?" Colman asked. "It doesn't make sense."

"Why is _it_ in Preston and Sookie's woods?" Claudine asked. "He's bursting at the seams with energy."

"He's looking for a new host," replied her brother into his glass as he began to drink.

"Sookie." Claudine's gaze fell upon Preston. "You said she was ill."

"She was," Preston replied and then added, "She's well now. She thinks it was something she ate." He hoped she was right. It seemed like she was. If their lovemaking that afternoon was any indication, her power was firmly restored. All day she'd shown signs of good health, and she was still as vivacious as ever when Bill finally came to pick her up.

"We should go." Colman gently released Claudine's foot. "I'm taking Claudine home." He met Preston's gaze. With a djinn so close, but more importantly in search of a new host, Colman felt no one was safe. The djinn were parasites.

"We need to tell grandfather," Claudine told her brother. "It's okay," she told Colman patting him on his thigh.

"I'll leave through the portal out back," Claude replied shoveling the last bite of lasagna into his mouth. He was still hungry.

Claudine wobbled over to Preston. "The wards around the house will keep you safe." She placed a kiss on Preston's cheek. "Give my love to Sookie. I'll see her tomorrow."

"She'll be disappointed that she missed you." He infused as much normality into his voice. "She loves when you visit." Claudine beamed with joy.

"Good night." Colman hugged Preston and then led Claudine outside, opening the driver side door for her.

"So what do you think?" Claude joined Preston at the door waving at Claudine and Colman as she pulled out of the long driveway.

"The witch has to die."

.

~ o * 0 * o ~

.

"Thank you for your help tonight Sookie." Bill held the car door open for her. She'd been quiet for most of the drive home. He wasn't sure what to say or if he should have said anything. Tonight was a close call. He knew he shouldn't have let her go into Fangtasia for the very thing that happened. Sookie's friendship was important to him, but he knew Eric was right. She'd made her choice. That choice placed her outside their world, or at least at the edge of it. At some point, as her fairy blood grew stronger, Bill was aware that would change. He questioned whether Sookie recognized this or not. Sometimes he thought she did and other times, like tonight, he wondered.

"It was nothing really Bill," she assured him. She ducked under the umbrella he held out for her. It had started raining on the way back to Bon Temps and showed no signs of letting up any time soon. Her gaze immediately darted to the house. The front porch and the front room lamp were on. Preston was waiting up for her. "If I think of anything I'll let you know," she told Bill. "Keep me posted will ya', if you can."

"Of course, we're partners." He grinned.

"Like Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson," she chuckled. "You're Sherlock and I'm Watson."

"Exactly," Bill agreed. "I'm the brawn and you're the brains." Sookie let out a hearty laugh. They smiled awkwardly at one another. Something had changed. It was palpable. "Good night." Leaning in, Bill pressed his cheek to Sookies.

"Nite Bill."

He turned and stepped off the porch. Sookie watched his car disappear into the darkness.

One day their good-bye would be final.

With a weary sigh, she unlocked the front door.

It had been a long night. The disillusionment she'd felt after Fangtasia still lingered for many reasons. She still wasn't absolutely sure what Alexei's motive was for killing all those vampires. All they seemed to know was the '_who'_ and the '_when'_. The _'how' _Alexei was doing it was still a mystery; as was the _'why'_. Why did someone go on a killing rampage? Maybe they would never know the answer to either question. Whatever Alexei's fate after tonight, it had nothing to do with her. At least that's what she kept telling herself.

Then there was the incident in Fangtasia. Eric and Bill had never looked at her the way they had tonight. She shuddered. It scared her. For the first time since meeting them, she was afraid. She felt more than knew absolutely that she couldn't be – wasn't entirely safe around them anymore.

Eric's words haunted her._ "You are not welcome here…"_

Sookie stepped inside. As she locked the door behind her, the sense of alienation that had settled around her, evaporated. The familiar and comforting fragrance of home warmly enveloped her. An irresistible sense of belonging filled her heart. Tonight, she almost lost this.

Stepping into the living room, a bright smile lit Sookie's face. Preston had fallen asleep on the sofa with the television on.

"Hey baby." Sookie combed her fingers through his tousled hair. Leaning in, she kissed him on the mouth. She could smell the faint scent of wildness that was his wolf. It wasn't an unpleasant smell. He'd been out running in the woods.

"Hey." He shifted. With a sleepy smile, he rolled onto his back. Sookie giggled. The weave pattern of the sofa was temporarily imprinted on the side of his face. In a blink Preston pulled her on top of him. "Funny, huh?" His fingers searched for the sensitive spots on her sides. He tickled her.

She squirmed and giggled uncontrollably. "Okay. Okay." She was breathless. He stopped and rested his hands at her waist. Panting she met his gaze. He didn't speak and neither did she. They simply stared at one another. There was still so much she wanted with him and Preston was offering her all of it.

A familiar stirring swirled deep inside her. She leaned forward, her eyes trained on his mouth. Her lips lightly brushed his.

"You smell," he whispered.

"Brat." She pinched him, which didn't work so well since she couldn't find a spot on him where she could grab enough skin. "You smell too buster."

"I went running."

"Yeah, I can smell." She smirked.

"Come on." Preston stood in one smooth motion taking Sookie with him.

Slipping out of her shoes and her pant suit, Sookie joined Preston in the shower.

"How did it go?" he asked lathering her hair. She winced when his attentive fingers found the tender spot on her skull. "What happened?"

"Calm down." Sookie tilted her chin up, her hands on her hips. "I'm fine. I just hit my head. Not. A. Big. Deal." His expression didn't relax. He knew every curve of her body, every look she wore, and he knew she was lying. "Please." Sookie sighed. Her voice sounded weary. She touched her forehead against this chest. "Just please."

Preston's brow furrowed. It wasn't just her voice; it was the feel of her that spoke to him. Whatever had happened tonight had altered her. He felt her warm tears against his chest where she was pressed against him. His emotions in response to her vulnerability overhelmed him. She was his in every way possible that one person could belong to another. He wrapped his arms around her and held her securely, trying to absorb every hurt and sorrow and disappointment she'd ever experienced.

"Its okay," he whispered. Sookie curled her arms between their bodies and pressed herself closer. His strong arms enveloped her in a blanket of security.

No one spoke afterward. Quietly, they showered and dried. Even when they slipped beneath the covers, they didn't speak. Sookie nuzzled her bottom into his hips. With his arm drapped over her waist, he drew her closer, his leg between her's and held her tightly the way she wanted him to. Inhaling deeply, Sookie relaxed. She was safe. The soothing rhythm of Preston's breathing, gently lulled her to sleep.


	12. Chapter 12

**WARNING: **This chapter contains disturbing and violent images that may not be appropriate for all readers.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 12<strong>

The room was dark. Vampires didn't need light to see in the dark. Alone, without humans watching, they didn't have to hide what they really were. Lightening struck nearby; a flash of white blue light illuminated the room and the pale faces of the vampires inside. The wind angrily pelted the rain into the room's side windows. Eric had finished speaking everything he had learned. Now he waited.

His thoughts wondered to the lists Pam had left him in his office in Fangtasia. If he thought about the lists, then he could pretend not to think about what Alexei had done and about what had to happen next. It didn't work. It was the only thing on his mind. He wondered. If Pam's lists were longer, would it have been easier not the think about other things. The things he didn't want to think about.

When he had confronted Alexei, like before when he'd question him regarding Victor Madden's suspicions, Alexei was silent. When he did speak, he brazenly confessed regarding those he'd killed, _"I could, so I did."_ Eric wanted to slap the smug expression off his face. _"What will you do? Nothing,"_ he challenged Eric and Appius. Eric was then certain that Appius should have allowed Alexei to meet the sun as he'd so earnestly wanted to so many times over the last several years.

"I can't do it." Appius looked up and met Eric's gaze. His Master's eyes were old. Weary.

A glass shattering scream came up from the safe room below Eric's home. No one reacted to the young girls shrieking.

"Do not ask me, my son." Appius buried his bloody tear stained face in his open hands. He wept; overcome with heartache at what Eric had proposed. Appius trembled with grief. He seemed to shrivel. Eric could not recall ever seeing his Master look so small, so defeated. He was uncomfortable. Appius' anguish could be perceived as a weakness. Eric looked away. He said nothing. The sound of his Maker sobbing felt to Eric like a clamp had been fastened around his lifeless heart. He had to be strong for Appius; for Alexei; for himself; for his own child. His gaze darted to her.

Pam stood in the shadows silent.

Eric knew she was trying to be strong for him. She was afraid for him. He did his best to close off their bond; to protect her from the weight of his grief and from Appius' anguish.

"The Council will show him no mercy." Eric knew that his Master was aware of this fact. Final death would not satisfy the Council. "It is not simply a matter of just one vampire."

"I know." Appius' voice was strained. "I can't," he wept. There had been many things he'd done to them, but he would never bring down upon his children their final death. The very thought that he could colored his heartache with rage. "I can't harm him in this way anymore than I can harm you in like manner." He said nothing more. Eric waited.

The room was silent except for another strangled scream echoing up from the staircase leading into the safe room. It was normally sound proof, but obviously not Alexei proof. They'd taken Alexei out and allowed him to select his own meal. Eric had glamoured a young man with wavy hair, and he'd captured a young auburn haired girl, a changeling. Normally, he wouldn't have permitted Alexei's choices – they would be missed; especially the young girl. It didn't matter. Knowing what would come next, Eric refused to deny his brother anything.

"If you say the word, I will obey."

Appius looked up. He studied Eric for a long time. He was seated across from him, his sad countenance making him more beautiful to Appius. He knew his son would obey him. Eric had always been obedient and loyal. No matter how unpleasant the task, there was never anything he'd ordered of his child that he ever refused. He may have hesitated at times, but he obeyed. He was a good son and had never given him a moment's worry; unlike Alexei. Appius sighed. It was a heartbreaking sound. He loved Alexei with a passion that consumed both his mind and body.

"So be it," he whispered, reserved to their fate.

Quietly, Eric rose from his seat and crossed the study to the wall where his private collection of ancient weapons was on display. He took one down. The one named Mercy. Without a backward glance, Eric made the long walk to the safe room just a few feet down the hall from his study. No one followed him.

As he walked down the short hallway, his mind separated into tight compartments. His intention narrowed his focus down to only one thin, sharp purpose. He paused. The door leading down was open. The staircase stretched out under him like eternity. One deliberate step at a time, he descended into the heart of the crypt below his home. He reached the bottom. Eight digits unlocked the door. Click. The steel against his palm was cold. He pressed. He met resistance.

The door opened only a few inches. Not enough for a man to pass. Pressing with more power, the door gradually gave, inching open. Eric glanced down. A bulbous of flesh and bones was blocking the door. Using his shoulder with one hand, he pushed the door open. It moved a little farther. A cluster of meat with strands and knots of auburn hair dangling by its roots slid down the bulbous. It plopped into a puddle of bloody inners.

Venom pooled in Eric's mouth as death's fragrance intermingled with the aroma of fae, seductively playing with his senses. His nostrils lightly tickled. Tilting his head back, he inhaled deeply letting the smooth, wet scent of blood trickle down his throat. The muscles and ligaments in his neck trembled ever so slightly. Hushed whimpers from across the room heightened the pleasure. A rumbling growl vibrated in his chest. Opening his eyes, Eric followed the dying cries to the corner of the room.

Alexei, naked and bathed in blood, steadily thrusted his hips into the young man with wavy hair, as his fangs drew the remaining warm liquid into his own body. The wet suctioning sound of Alexei's body entering and retracting and entering again the young man's body were the only sounds left in the room. Eric's chest rose and fell as he watched. The young man with wavy hair was dead, drained of all his blood, limp in Alexei's death embrace. Several moments passed. His hips moved in one powerful thrust and he shuddered, the muscles of his back rippling.

Eric waited.

With a last orgasmic groan, Alexei pulled his half flaccid penis and glistening fangs out from inside the young man. The young man's naked body slid to the ground pooling around Alexei's feet. His skull thudded against the cement. Alexei inhaled the decadent fragrance of death. He rubbed his bloody hands over his face and down his bare chest. He grinned at Eric sighting the weapon in his hand.

"Is it time?" he asked feeling victorious. He knew what his brother and their Maker had been discussing. He didn't dare hope. He wondered. Would they be too feeble? Would they deny what they knew as the truth? Or would they be cowards and hand him over to the Council to do what they were too weak to accomplish themselves? Either way, it didn't matter. The end result would be the same.

Both brothers stared at each other.

"Yes," Eric answered Alexei's question. It was time.

The room was quiet.

"I am glad," he told Eric. He was sincere. His cursed existence had been too long. In his brother's eyes he saw his reflection. His face relaxed, making him appear the boy he had once been. He looked peaceful. His time had ended the day he and his family were executed. He could easily resist Eric; he'd already proven incapable of restraining him in the past. But why should he? Soon things would be as they ought to have been. The thought of eternal sleep filled him with serenity. "Take me home," he said in his native Russian.

"I will." Bloody tears colored Eric's perfect ivory skin. Despite Alexei's recent crimes, there had been a time so many eons ago, when his brother had been Eric's only solace. He moved toward Alexei, Mercy in his hand, and embraced his brother. Alexei let out a soft mewl into the side of Eric's neck. His arms around Eric tightened.

"do svidaniya." He slid down the length of Eric's body. Alexei sat back, his buttocks on his heels. Head hung low. Arms limply at his side. Hot blood streamed down from his abdomen, over his thighs, and onto the floor. Alexei watched the crimson liquid gather. It was quiet. The light in the corner glistened off the blood's glossy surface. It reminded him of the mountain lake he'd seen eighty years ago.

Two feet came into Alexei's view. They broke the play of light on the blood near his knees. The end of Mercy's long blade moved away and disappeared from his vision. He closed his eyes; steadied his will. The time to pay to God for the evils he'd committed had arrived.

A moment passed.

. . .

The sound of flesh and skull hitting cement echoed in the empty room. Above, something heavy hit the floor. Appius's tortured howls filled the house.


	13. Chapter 13

**Posted: **11/10/11  
><strong>AN: <strong>I didn't want to wait another week to give you this chapter. So here you go. ^-^

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 13<strong>

It had stopped raining. Moonbeams streamed in through the bedroom window. Preston woke breathless. His hips swayed of their own will. Pleasure clouded his mind. Glancing down, he let out a throaty groan. Sookie's lips were wrapped around him. She had him hard. The vision of her between his legs coiled the muscles in his thighs. He was wake. His abdomen twitched. He was too close. He pulled her off of him. Her wicked smile and lust filled eyes made his blood hot. She knew it. He loved it when she woke him like this. In a flash his mouth was on hers; on her breasts; on her thighs.

Soon he had her as breathless and wanting as she had him.

Her lusty sounds drove him to delirium. It filled him with urgency. Pressure was building; anticipation had his heart racing. Holding himself, he stroked her entrance. They moaned. She was ready. "So good," he groaned. Sookie answered him with a thrust of her hips. With a whimper, she welcomed him inside her. He thought he would die when the first inch of him entered her. He wouldn't last much longer. Groaning, he withdrew from her. She had him trained, and he was perfectly content with that knowledge. He reached for one of the small packets she kept in every room of the house. They were to prevent unwanted pregnancies. In the moonlit room, he tore open the small envelope.

"No," Sookie whispered. Her hand closed on his. He stopped and stared at her.

She had made up her mind.

Though it had been almost a year since she'd last been involved with the vampires, it wasn't until tonight that it became obvious to her that, that part of her life was over. It had been over months ago. Eric's words had haunted her during the ride back from Shreveport. He was right. She had chosen. All these month's she'd postponed important decisions, because of her involvement with the vampires. Little had she realized until Eric's harsh words that she wasn't part of their world anymore. Not really. Her choice months ago had closed one door and opened another. All the reasons she had, had never really existed she realized.

Earlier that night, when Preston held her, she felt her decision solidify. She was happy with her choice. It was what she wanted then and what she still wanted. With Preston, her dreams were possibilities, and she wanted to fully embrace the future that he offered her.

"I want to make a baby," she said never breaking her gaze from his. "I want a family. I know it might not be possible," she confessed. There had been a few times when they had been careless and didn't use protection and nothing happened. She wasn't sure if they'd just been lucky or if it was a sign. "I know there aren't any guarantees and that's okay."

"Are you sure?" They'd had several conversations about this. Each time she'd decided to wait and see. He didn't want to allow himself to hope. He wanted this as much as he wanted her. But he also feared it, but not for the reasons one would think. He was afraid he couldn't give her a child.

"Yes, I'm sure. We won't know unless we try." She studied his face; waited. Preston nodded. She didn't hide her smile. She took the small packet out of his hands and dropped it on the floor. With her other hand behind his neck, she drew him back to her.

Preston lovingly and slowly stroked the fire between them again until her cries for release were incoherent. Gradually, savoring every sensation, he moved inside her holding her gaze. They held their breath for that one magical moment. Sookie sighed. The last time they had nothing between them was their time in Faery. Silently, they agreed never to put a barrier between them again. At the moment, lost in the sensation, all sense thrown out the window, Sookie was resigned to being constantly barefoot and pregnant if it meant feeling every inch of Preston inside her.

**.**

**~ o * O * o ~**

**.**

"To the left," Sookie directed Dermott. He relocated one end of the WELCOME BABY sign a few more inches to the left. "That's it. Perfect." Sookie's very own fairy army had arrived early to help her set-up for the baby shower. Their enthusiasm made Sookie think it was Christmas, New Years, and everyone's birthday wrapped up into one day. It seemed the idea of celebrating the arrival of a child was something the fairies in her life embraced whole heartedly.

"Would you get that thing out of my face," Colman grumbled. Claude had bought a video recorder especially for today. He thought it was not only a great invention, but an excellent investment. "Claude!"

"Sorry." He almost sounded contrite until he told Colman in a put off tone to, "Calm down."

Preston and Colman were finishing up with the installation of an AC unit for the living room. After their very enthusiastic romp that morning, Preston had gone and purchased it saying that it was for her comfort since her body temperature would more than likely run on the warmer side once she was with child. With a bright smile, Sookie shook her head. His excitement was catching. She knew he would make a good father. Imagining it filled her eyes with unshed tears. She bit the inside of her lip. Shaking herself gently, she went back to supervising the decorating. She didn't feel like she could trust Dermott with the task. She feared if left on his own the living room would end up looking like a Disney World nightmare.

"It looks wonderful. All the streamers make it look so festive." Claudine beamed. "Where do you want these platters?"

"The sideboard." Sookie pointed. "You shouldn't be carrying those."

"They weigh nothing," she told Sookie. "Remember, I'm a fairy."

"Yes, and you shouldn't be helping. This is your party."

"To late now." She sat the platters along with the other finger foods Sookie had already brought out.

"They're here," Claude announced. He stepped onto the porch with his camera. A few moments later, Sookie heard Tara.

"Claude Crane, you take that thing out of my face," she scolded him. He hadn't discovered the telescope option on the camera yet. "Put that damn thing away and help me with these casseroles."

"Hi Tara," Sookie greeted her with a hug and kiss to one cheek. "Let me take that for you." As they entered the house, Maxine Fortenberry pulled into the driveway. Once Tara was settled and the food she brought in, Sookie went outside to see if Maxine needed help. She was brining her famous punch.

As Sookie stepped on to the porch, Preston wrapped his arm around her waist. "It's done," he whispered near her ear, kissing her on her neck. "I'm going to wash up."

"Ok," Sookie breathed. Her cheeks flushed. She had a good idea of what he was thinking. Touching the side of her cheek with her hand, she turned to head down the porch.

"I have to go," Claude announced coming to stand beside her.

"What?" Sookie was momentarily confused.

"An emergency came up at the club," he answered. "I showed Dermott how to run the camera. Make sure he films the entire thing. I don't want to miss anything."

"I'll make sure he gets all the highlights in."

"Bye." He leaned in and gave Sookie a kiss on her cheek. "Sookie." He beamed at her. His surprise softened his features. For a moment, Sookie felt breathless. She sometimes forgot how beautiful Claude was. "It's a boy," he whispered.

"What?"

"He's only hours old."

Sookie's heart fluttered.

"I." She stared at him. Stunned.

Claude had a talent for things like this. He was a fairy. She didn't know exactly how his gift worked. He was the one that told Tara she was having twins. Sookie believed him even before Tara had called to tell her that the doctor confirmed she was indeed carrying twins. All Sookie knew was that nature certainly seemed to have a way of countering itself. On one hand her fairy cousin was hyper sensitive to life and on the other, he could be so insensitive with people.

"What will you call him?" Claude grinned, looking very proud.

It took a few delayed seconds for Sookie to register fully the implication behind Claude's words. Was it possible? Tears filled her eyes. To her surprise Claude hugged her tightly. Her arms went around him and she held on. "Don't cry," he said soothingly. Strangely, Sookie felt comforted and peaceful. Why shouldn't she? He was her family. "I like baby showers," he whispered.

"Me too."

"Sookie, sweetie, can you help me?" Maxine's motherly voice broke the spell her and Claude were sharing.

"Yes," she called out over Claude's shoulder. "I'll be right there."

"Bye." He winked. With a smirk he bounded off the porch.

Over the next several minutes one guest after another arrived, keeping Sookie busy. As much as she wanted to tell Preston what Claude had said, she decided to wait until they were alone. Preston had taken over camera duty, while Dermott unobtrusively passed out refreshments. Sookie was impressed. Her great-uncle was a very attentive host. No one's glass went dry.

Some time later, a knock on the front door interrupted their game of Baby Bingo. Sookie insisted they keep playing. Slipping away, she found a floral delivery man at her front door.

"I have a delivery for," the pudgy delivery man held up his clipboard and read, "Sookie Stackhouse."

"That's me."

"Can you please sign here?" He handed her the clip board pointing to a spot for her signature.

"Who are they from?" she asked. The pudgy delivery man didn't know, but told her there was a card. She stepped out onto the porch as he trudged to his van. Several moments passed. When he finally stepped around the van's open door, Sookie gasped at the monstrosity approaching her. It looked like a peacock made out of an assortment of tropical flowers.

The sight made her stomach feel like it dropped. She watched with dread as the monstrosity came up the steps. The delivery man handed her the large arrangement. He opened the screen door for her. Bypassing the living room, Sookie took the flower peacock into the kitchen.

"Wow." Pearl whistled gaping at the arrangement. "I'm helping Dermott." She held up the empty glasses for Sookie to see as she tried to ignore the flowers.

"It's pretty out-there." Sookie blushed. She didn't want her human friends to see it. She already knew who the flowers were from. Only a vampire would send her something so outrageous. Opening the card, she skimmed without reading the few lines. Her eyes darted down to the signature. Victor Madden. Not realizing it, she'd groaned out loud.

"A secret admirer," Pearl teased light heartedly. "Their taste level leaves much to be desired."

"It's pretty awful." Sookie tried to smile, but it was a weak effort.

"I'd say." Pearl looked apologetic. Though Sookie was smiling, it didn't reach her eyes. "It's not so bad," Pearl gently tired to assure her.

"Yes, it is."

"You're right. I think you could pull it off if you went for a Vegas motif, instead of Bon Temps homestead." Sookie and Pearl stood silently staring at the arrangement. "Heck," Pearl sighed, "It would even be out of place in New Orleans during Mardi Gras."

"Yeah," Sookie chuckled dryly. She didn't need this complication. She didn't want nor need this snag. Unconsciously, her hand rested on her abdomen. There was no doubt in her mind of Claude's assessment. She had her baby to think about now. There was no room in her life for vampire politics; much less someone like Victor Madden. Working for the vampires or having someone like Victor Madden hanging around wasn't the sort of environment Sookie wanted to bring up her baby in. That door had closed months ago. It was because of the vampires in her life that she'd hesitated this long to have a baby. What did they have to do to get Victor to realize that she couldn't be bought? Maybe Claude was right. Victor needed to die.

"Are you alright, Sookie?" Pearl asked. Sookie's smile was strained. Her telepathy made her aware of Pearl's genuine concern.

"Yeah." She tried to sound confident and light hearted, but she failed.

Anxiety was clearly carved on Sookie's features. Pearl was not convinced by Sookie's show of bravery. She glanced down at the card Sookie was holding haphazardly. She reached for it and had it open before Sookie realized she'd taken it. "Sleaze ball," Pearl huffed. It was a delicate sound, which made Sookie chuckle.

"I'm not sure how many different ways I can say 'No'."

"Vampires, especially ones like Madden, have difficulty with the concept of _'no'_." Sookie glanced over at Pearl. She had momentarily forgotten that Pearl was well versed in the vampire world. She'd been married three years to a vampire. This realization made Sookie relax. In Pearl she had someone she could confide with.

"How are things going with you and Bill?"

Pearl's eyes brightened. "He's great."

"I'm really happy for you both."

"Thanks Sookie." She turned to stare at the arrangement. "Why deCastro has kept him on, baffles me. I think Victor poses less of a threat to his kingship out here in Louisiana than in Nevada."

"You're not the first person I've heard say that."

"It's true. Have you let the local Sherriff know he's bothering you?"

"He knows. There's not much more anyone can do. And since staking him isn't an option, I'm just hoping he'll get tired and give up."

"Wishful thinking," Pearl whispered. "What does Preston think?"

Sookie hesitated. Compared to Claude and Dermott whose solution was to kill Madden in the parking lot of his nightclub, Preston felt that diplomacy with deCastro would be less likely to create an interspecies war. He thought that if the bribe was lucrative enough, deCastro would give the fae Madden on a silver plate.

"He agrees with you," Sookie volunteered.

They stood silently staring at the outrageous floral arrangement. Pearl's calming presence and silent thoughts were soothing. Sookie knew instinctually that everyone was right about Madden. It was wishful thinking that he would lose interest in her particular skills.

The cacophony of voices drifting into the kitchen from the living room reminded Sookie she had guests to attend to.

"So what are you going to do with this?" Pearl asked.

"I have no idea. Throwing them away seems wasteful."

"Keeping them would be a waste of perfectly good space. Don't torture yourself, Sookie."

"I think you're right."

"Come," Pearl said, picking the arrangement up, "I promised I'd show you how to make my grandmother's Lotus Flower ice tea."

"Why's it called Lotus Flower?"

"That's a really good question. I haven't a clue. It is odd considering the recipe calls for violets."

"How does that work? Are we going to use actual flowers? Is that safe?"

"They're edible."

After discarding Madden's gaudy flowers into the trash can located on the back porch, Pearl and Sookie created Pearl's grandmother's Lotus Flower ice tea. The lilac colored drinks garnished with violets and mint leaves were a huge success. It was wonderfully refreshing with a hint of sweetness.

Little by little the guests started to leave. Tara and her mother-in-law, Jason's girlfriend, and even Pearl, insisted on helping with the clean up. Sookie successfully fended off all their sincere offers. Preston loaded all of Tara's gifts into her car and Jason's girlfriend invited her and Preston for dinner next week. She'd hesitated unsure if Jason would be fine with the invite. He was after all one of Bon Temps supernatural residences who hadn't accepted Preston with open arms. But Michelle insisted the dinner invitation was Jason's suggestion. Sookie told her that dinner sounded wonderful.

As the last guest pulled out of the driveway, Sookie let out a sigh of relief. "No more humans." Grinning at her, Preston wrapped his arm around her. "I love them all dearly," she said. "They're just a lot of work." To keep the cacophony of unwanted thoughts from overwhelming her, she'd had to exert a lot of effort to keep her guard up. As she leaned against Preston, she relaxed her mind. The tension melted away. She wrapped her arm around his waist as they climbed the front porch steps into the house. "Do I have to clean?" she asked.

Preston smiled, holding the door open for her. "Dermott is washing the dishes and packing away the last of the food."

"I know I should probably feel really bad about him doing my job, but I'm not."

"Good. It makes him happy." Preston opened the door for her. "I saw the flowers out back."

Sookie cringed. "You just had to remind me didn't you?" Preston held up his forefinger to his lips. "What?"

"Shh." Leaning forward, he placed his lips below her ear. A thrilling shiver ran down Sookie's spine. "He won't be bothering you anymore," he whispered. He felt Sookie's fingers guide his chin up. Looking straight at him she opened her mouth. Closed it. Her brow furrowed. "Diplomacy, my love," he assured her, stealing a kiss.


	14. Chapter 14

**AN: **_Hope everyone is having a great weekend. Here's your new chapter. Enjoy. ^-^_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 14<strong>

Programming updates to the database done, Bill sat at his desk and waited for it to cycle and reload. The shadows created by the light from the screen danced and mingled with the shadows created by the fireplace situated opposite of the sofa he kept in his office. He'd used it to relax in and to think or to not think and just listen to his music. At the moment, _White Rabbit_ played through his Bose speakers.

Eric had left a message on his machine for him when he'd risen. "It's taken care of." He said nothing more, but Bill knew. He didn't know what to think. Saying sorry didn't feel like the right response. Neither did telling Eric that perhaps the decision to end Alexei was premature. There was still something about the killings that left him unsettled. Though Eric's assessment of Alexei's motive seemed solid, it didn't explain "How" he had, for a lack of a better word, drained the vampires.

Bill's speculations were cut short by his cell phone ringing. Glancing at the caller ID, it was Detective Josiah Walker, the Were with the Shreveport Police Department. Walker was a fifteen year veteran of the force. Bill reclined back in his leather office chair. He didn't want to appear eager. On the fourth ring, he answered the call. Before he could answer with a standard greeting, Walker spoke.

"Are you somewhere you can talk?"

"Yes. I take it you got my message."

"Yeah, I got it." Bill heard papers rustling in the background. "So what do you know that we don't?"

"I can't say I know much."

"That's not how this works Compton. You give a little. I give a little. That's how it works." Walker switched the receiver to his other ear. Though Weres took a hands-off approach to vampire problems, he was a cop through and through. It was coded in his DNA. "So who's this Jane Doe and what's her connection to the murders?"

"She was the last one to see Ian Warren alive."

"Ah." Walker wasn't surprised. He'd wondered if the Ian Warren story had been fed to the news media. "The petro guy who died of 'sino-AIDS'?"

"The one. I need to know if she was just a decoy to lead me off the trail or if she's a potential suspect."

"No females fitting your descript have been reported missing or come up dead in the last month."

"That's what I was afraid of."

"The writing on the wall screams supernatural activity."

Bill straightened in his seat. He was interested. Walker was sharp and quick on his feet. He wanted to hear the detective's theories. "What are you thinking?" he asked.

"Magic," Walker confessed without hesitation. That was exactly where Bill's hunch had been leading him. "I had our pack shaman study the pictures."

"And?"

Walker smiled. He took a swig from his bottle of cold beer. It had been a long day on the job, and it didn't help that the vampire killings had been nagging at him for weeks. He couldn't share his theories with his human partner. There was still a lot humans didn't know about supernaturals. He was glad Bill had called. "I took her to the previous murder scene," Walker replied. "She picked up residual magic, but it was too weak. Said if she'd been brought in sooner, maybe. Magic isn't a vampire thing. You know what I'm talking about?"

"Yes."

Walker wondered if Bill was just an Area Investigator by default or because he actually had a knack for investigation. "So, what does this tell you?" he asked.

"Our killer isn't a vampire," Bill replied cautiously. Walker grinned, thinking dryly that maybe Bill got the job on merit alone and not just because of his good looks. "The killer could be working with a vampire."

"Could be," Walker conceded. Maybe Bill was right. The vampire could be just selecting their victims and staying away from the crime scene. As logical as that conclusion was, it was flawed. "Did you get to breakdown this last crime scene?"

"Yes. It was clean."

"Too clean, right. What did you smell?"

"Fuck." Bill rubbed his forehead.

"Exactly." Walker had gone through the previous murder scene when he took their pack shaman. "Did you pick up on something sweet, magic, and just one vampire?" The victim, he thought. Had there been another vampire involved, even in the planning stages, the killer would have contaminated the scene with his partner's scent.

"We're not looking for a vampire," Bill realized, but until he had more concrete evidence and not just the hunch of an inexperienced investigator and a Were, Bill would have to wait to share his findings.

"You could be looking for a witch."

The thought had crossed Bill's mind a few times, but he hadn't had any proof. As Area 5 Investigator, he never had to track a serial killer. His case load consisted of identifying John Does. He knew his limits and he'd reached it. "Where would you suggest I look now?" Bill asked.

"Find a connection, and I'm not talking about them being vampires. You get my meaning?"

"Yes," Bill replied. "Would your pack shaman be willing to see what she can pick up from Ian Warren's place? It's only been maybe a week."

"No promises. First time was a personal favor. This isn't pack business."

"I understand. If you can talk to her. She'll be compensated of course."

"I'll let you know."

As the database reloaded, Bill glanced through the case files in front of him. The yellow color of the folder was fading at the edges. He'd lost track of how many times he'd studied its contents. "_Look for a connection?"_ he reminded himself as he flipped through the legal pad filled with notes he'd taken. In block letters he'd written NO SIGN OF STRUGGLE. Every crime scene photo he'd studied, along with Ian's, there had been no sign of any weapons that he could smell or see, there were no traces of blood – not even in the air, the victims had all been unclothed, and there were no signs of a struggle. The modus operandi in each case was identical.

The killer was the same, but beyond the identical M.O., Bill wasn't sure what the connection between the victims was. Methodically, he went through each report and crime scene photos beginning with the first victim. Only when he was satisfied that he couldn't learn anything new, he entered the victim's name in his database. His fingers danced over the keys of the keyboard. Samson La Faure was made vampire in 1764. He had been part of an expedition mapping the Tensas River in Louisiana. Maker: Melancon; location: unknown. This was how Bill passed the dark hours of night.

Not having moved from his seat in hours, Bill rose. Empty bottles of TruBlood littered the top of his desk.

"_Look for a connection?"_ Bill let out a gruff sound of frustration. He hadn't found an obvious link.

**.**

**~ o * O * o ~**

**.**

"I will be a good father. I promise." Preston gently kissed Sookie's lower abdomen. Propped on pillows, she reached her hand out and ran her fingers through his hair where he rested the side of his face on her flat belly.

"I know baby."

"I wish I could feel him."

"You will. Give it some months."

"What do you want to call him?"

"I don't know." Sookie shrugged. "I haven't thought about it."

"I want to call him Aodhagán."

"What?" Sookie giggled. Preston looked up at her. "I'm sorry. We're not calling our baby by anything that sounds like a cat choking on a hairball."

"It was my brother's name." Sookie's laugh died in her throat. "It's a good name."

"But, I can't pronounce it."

"The modern pronunciation is Aidan."

"Aidan." Sookie tried the name. "But won't your brother want to name his son Aidan?"

"My brother died in the last fairy-elf war. He was a good earth fairy. It was our great father's name."

"Then it's settled," she said. "Aidan Corbett Stackhouse Pradloe."

"An earth name and a sky name."

"Corbett was my dad's name."

"It's a sky name. In Faery, it means sunrise."

"I didn't know that," she whispered. She'd always thought it had been a Stackhouse family name. The idea of Fintan having named her father was a surprise. She wasn't sure how she felt about that. Deciding it was too much to contemplate she abandoned the thought.

"Are you tired?" Preston asked. His soulful eyes were hopeful. Sookie recognized the expression. Stifling a grin, she shrugged her shoulders.

"Maybe."

"Maybe?" Preston replied. His voice was playful. His fingers pulled at her underpants. "Then I'll do all the work." His strong hands pressed her thighs aside.

"Pres…," she hissed, the sensual contact momentarily leaving her breathless. She burrowed her head into her pillows. She was ruined. The bowl of apple fritters and vanilla ice cream they had been sharing fell to the floor.

Sometime later, Sookie came in behind Preston and wiped up the residue the melted ice cream had left on the wooden floors. "Aren't you glad we decided against carpeting?" She tossed the soiled rag at him. With fairy speed he caught the rag with the bowl. Sookie jumped up and stretched on her toes. She kissed him on his cheek. "That was really good by the way." She smacked him with her open palm on his bottom and scurried away.

"Keep that up." He teased following her into the kitchen.

"Or what?" She giggled.

"I just might do it again." He placed the bowl in the sink.

"Really—hey," she yelped. Preston turned and lifted her by her waist. Gently, he sat her on the counter.

"Fairies never lie." He burrowed himself between her thighs. Her night shirt rode up. She hadn't replaced her underpants. "And we never promise what we can't deliver."

"Is that so?" Sookie laughed nervously. Preston rested his hands on her waist. Leaning in, he claimed her mouth. She wrapped her bare legs around his jean clad thighs. Her fingers gripped his waistband, urging him even closer, seeking friction. With an open hand, he glided it along her neck, and held her.

Unhurriedly, they kissed.

A knock on the back door interrupted the moment. Preston grunted. The only person who ever visited them at this time of night, was Bill.

"Be nice," Sookie whispered. "You can ravish me all night. I work the dinner shift tomorrow."

**.**

**~ o * O * o ~**

**.**

"You know one day you won't be able to come by like this," Preston reminded Bill.

"I know." Bill stared at his hands on the table. "I feel the effects of Lochlan's blood fading."

"Bill." Sookie's brow tensed. She knew what that meant. "I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize," Bill told her. "You've done nothing wrong."

"If I'm in my shop, you're always welcome to visit." Preston put the invitation out there. "I'm an earth fairy, so you may not find my scent pleasant, but you won't feel the allure of my blood." Unless he cut himself, but he kept that last part to himself. "But you will not be welcomed in our home or near Sookie. Her sky fairy essence has grown stronger and will only continue. You will need to stay away from Merlotte's when she is working."

"Preston." Her expression was as pleading as the tone of her voice. She felt he was being too harsh.

"He's a danger to you," he fixed his eyes with hers, "and to our son."

Bill's gaze locked on Sookie for several long moments. He shook his head, dropping his gaze. A wide range of emotions played across his face. Letting them all pass, he steeled his expression. "Congratulations." His smile was warm; only marginally forced. "You always wanted a family. I'm happy for you. Truly."

"Thank you Bill." Sookie reached across the table to touch his hand. He pulled them out of her reach. They disappeared underneath the table.

"Preston is right," Bill told her leaning back against the chair. "I'll have to stay away from Merlotte's when you're there."

"Is that really necessary?" she asked Preston.

"It is," Bill answered her question. He knew his limitations. He would never forgive himself if he hurt her in that way.

"I will always be grateful for your assistance to Sookie." Preston's voice was steady and calm. "Please do not take my gratitude to mean that I will not kill you to protect what is mine or my blood." He avoided Sookie's angry glare. This was between him and Bill.

For several long moments, an undercurrent of tension stretched between them.

"I understand." Silence. A strained stillness enveloped them.

As far as bad news went, Sookie felt tonight's news was up there. Breaking the impasse, she asked, "Would you like a TruBlood Bill?"

"Thank you, yes."

While Sookie waited for the bottle of blood to warm, she poured herself and Preston a glass of Pearl's tea. No one spoke as she moved about the kitchen. Preston watched Bill. Bill tried not to watch Sookie. He still loved her. Knowing that she was with the better man, in his opinion, didn't lessen the sting.

"Thank you." Bill took the bottle of heated blood.

They each, quietly, held their drinks between their hands. She hated the strange awkwardness between them now. Preston ignored her disapproving look. Sighing, Sookie spoke first. "Well, you haven't gone all red on us Bill, so I think we don't need to worry about it tonight. What do you say?"

Bill smiled. "You're right." He took a drink from the bottled blood. Sookie glanced away. To her shame, it still bothered her to see him drink it; especially when it temporarily stained his teeth.

"Have you learned anything new about the case?" she asked before taking a sip of her tea.

"I think I just needed a break."

"It might help to get some distance for a while," she conceded.

"Eric called. I'm not sure if you know. Alexei met his final death."

"Oh," Sookie gasped. She suddenly doubted what she had seen in the guard's mind. Cautiously, she said, "But we're not sure."

"It doesn't matter. If it wasn't now, it would have only been a question of when. For now, time will tell if we were right."

"You don't think your assessment was accurate?" Preston asked.

"No," Bill replied. He explained what he'd learned from his phone conversation with Detective Walker. "I've looked to see if I could find a connection between the victims. I could only find a link between four out of the six victims. Two were maker and child."

"Have you checked to see if there's some sort of business connection?" Sookie asked.

"Nothing that would connect all six."

"There is a connection." Preston sounded confident. "You just can't see it yet."

"What about the others?" Sookie asked. "Maker and child. Surely, one of the other victims has either a surviving maker or child. One of them is bound to know something."

"Ian's maker, Lorenzo Añaxco, was the fourth victim. He has another child. Adalina. I left her a message this evening asking her to contact me. The other is Melancon. He was the maker of the first victim. His location is unknown."

"So you think your killer is a witch?" Preston asked. Having heard Bill summarize the conclusions he and the Were had made, his curiosity was peaked. He wondered if perhaps his witch was the same as Bill's witch.

"I'm not certain," Bill admitted. "Weres are known to keep a shaman. The Shreveport and Monroe packs do. I'm not sure about the others. Then there's a local witch population both in Monroe and in New Orleans."

"The Baton Rouge and New Orleans packs have shamans as well. One is a human female."

"Could you contact the Louisiana packs," suggested Sookie, "and see if their shamans disappeared around the time that each vampire was killed?"

"Unless it's pack business, I doubt I will get much cooperation."

"I can ask the Baton Rouge pack," Preston offered.

"I'll ask Alcide. I'm still a friend of the pack. I'm sure he wouldn't mind checking with the Monroe pack master."

"I think asking a few key pack masters," Preston said, "may get you an answer within a few days."

"And I can ask Amelia to check into the witches in New Orleans," Sookie offered. "There's also Holly. She might know something about the Monroe coven."

"I think it would be worth a shot," Bill agreed, feeling optimistic. He would spend another day or two on the case. If nothing came up by the end of that time, then maybe they were right about Alexei. Only time would tell. After finishing his bottle of TruBlood, Bill took his leave.

At the back door, Sookie hugged him. She held tightly, knowing this might be their final good-bye. Bill returned her hug, inhaling her scent. There was a flash of recognition. He stiffened. There was something faintly familiar. His mind quickly went through his memories trying to place it. He wasn't absolutely certain if the delicate sweet scent he was picking up from Sookie was the result of the effects of Lochlan's blood fading, or something else. For a split second he considered saying something. Asking her if she'd changed her perfume.

Sookie quickly pulled away from Bill's embrace, remembering vividly the intimacy between her and Preston earlier. Her face blazed with a blush. She'd forgotten that Bill had a sensitive sense of smell.

Mistaking her blush for meaning something it wasn't, Bill closed his mouth. He didn't want to end their night unpleasantly. He swallowed the question that had formed in his throat.

"Take a night off from the case," Sookie suggested. "I think it'll do you wonders to get your mind off it. Take Pearl out."

"I think I will." Bill stepped off the porch and left.

**.**

* * *

><p><strong>Click the button below and leave a review. Your comments go a long way. <strong>


	15. Chapter 15

**AN: **_OMG! I'm only going to get 2hrs of sleep; if any. I couldn't put this chapter down. My awesome beta, **slcurwin, **worked fast and got this back to me in a day. I just had to finish and post it._

_**slcurwin**, thank you for being so patient and graciously putting up with my repetitive writing style. I'm working on it - promise._

_Its been thrilling writing this and the last one. I feel like a kid at Christmas opening that first present. Hope you love it. Send me your good intentions and energy today. I'm going to need it to stay awake. Enjoy! ^-^_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 15<strong>

In the living room the Channel 4 afternoon news droned in the background as Sookie moved from one room to the next. There was a possibility that they might have company later tonight. Everyone, meaning Claude, was excited to see the video of the baby shower. The other fairies in her life were probably coming along as well. Video recorders were not a technology available in Faery.

With the vacuum returned to the closet, Sookie grabbed her work shoes. Plopping unceremoniously into the sofa, she put her Nike's on. She had thirty minutes before she had to head out to start her dinner shift at Merlotte's. One shoe tied, she grabbed the remote from the coffee table to turn off the television. The remote was new. Preston came home with it a week ago. Sookie didn't understand why a remote needed so many buttons. "Power," she mumbled holding it close. Squinting, her eyes followed each row looking for the power button. "Ah!" She pointed it at the TV, her finger on the button.

"I'm Moira Wright reporting outside Vampire's Kiss—"

"Damn," Sookie whispered. She quickly pressed the power button again. The TV clicked back on.

"At 11:15 a.m. a body was found near the dumpsters located near the rear of the nightclub. Unconfirmed reports are stating that the John Doe is business owner, Victor Madden. Officials have not yet released a statement at this time."

"What's the probability that this may be the work of the Vampire Killer?"

"Well, Barbara, with the little information that we have received at this time, it appears this is not the work of the Vampire Killer. We do know that the body was discovered outdoors. If this is the work of the Vampire Killer, he's definitely deviated from his pattern."

"How is that?" the Anchor asked.

"Up to now, all of the VK's murders have occurred indoors."

"Is there anything else you can elaborate on?"

"We know that a female employee discovered the body. I spoke with her briefly." The screen switched to a petite brunette dressed in what Sookie assumed was Vampire's Kiss' uniform.

"I was throwing out the trash. I didn't see at first. But something caught my eye. I went over behind the dumpster. That's when I found him." She broke into tears. The news reporter moved the microphone away and gave the young woman a moment. Sookie watched, riveted to the screen. The petite woman was trying to compose herself. "If it wasn't for the dumpster blocking the sun," her voice trembled, "I don't think we would have known who it was." Two police officers stepped into the camera's frame. One held up his hand covering the camera lens. The screen switched back to the news reporter standing across the street with Vampire's Kiss in the background.

"Ms. Garrett is currently at the Shreveport Police Station giving her statement. Officials have shared with the media that an official statement will be released this evening."

Sookie's thoughts were trampling over each other. She felt betrayed. Preston had known that this wasn't what she had wanted. She glanced down at her wrist watch. In fifteen minutes she started her shift. Grumbling under her breath, she turned the TV off, grabbed her purse, and headed out the back door.

"What did you guys do?" she demanded, feeling that his idea of diplomacy was seriously flawed.

Preston glanced up. He stared at her for a moment. She stood inside the doorway of his workshop vibrating with emotion. His brow tensed. Calmly, he set the wood plane in his hands down. He reached for a rag on the nearby work table and wiped his hands. With an air of ease, he walked toward her.

His unruffled reaction infuriated her.

"I can't believe you," she huffed. Turning sharply, she headed to her car.

Catching her car door before she slammed it shut, Preston held it open. "You can't believe who did what?"

"I have to go to work."

"I'll take you."

"No." She gaped at him instantly knowing he meant to teleport her. "The baby."

"It won't damage him." He fixed his gaze on her. Sookie bit the inside of her lip. They stared at each other for a several long moments. It irritated her that he seemed to take up so much space.

"Well," his brow rose toward his hairline, "are you going to talk to me?"

"How could you?" She narrowed her eyes. "Agh," she grunted abruptly, breaking Preston's gaze. She hated that tears were welling in her eyes. "You know how I felt about…" Her grip on the steering wheel tightened. She inhaled sharply.

Resting his other hand on the roof of the car, Preston waited. He was a fairy; he could wait a hundred years if he had too. For him, time was neither here or there.

"You know," her voice was just above a whisper, "how I felt about out-right killing Victor Madden." All he'd proven to be over the last several months was an annoyance; not a threat. It would have been different if he'd been threatening her or Preston, but he hadn't. The stupid flowers he kept sending her over the last several months had only proven to be a major pain in her side. It was benign for the most part. It certainly hadn't warranted killing him. Who kills someone because he's sending flowers?

Preston watched with fascination the play of emotions in Sookie's expression. He had understood her feelings, yet he still didn't know what Victor Madden had to do with her being upset; apparently with him.

Sookie snapped around and stared at him. She squeezed the steering wheel. Her toes curled with how annoyed she felt. She wanted to hit him. He looked calm; guileless. "I don't know what it means in Faery," she spoke with derision in her tone, "but here, diplomacy doesn't mean killin' someone."

Preston drew in a breath and exhaled. He nodded his head. The pieces of their cryptic conversation fell into place for him. "Victor Madden is dead?"

"You know good and well he's dead."

"No. I didn't know." He leaned forward resting his head against his forearm. Glancing up at him, Sookie could see his thoughts working. Doubt suddenly took hold of her. Had she been wrong? "DeCastro was enticed into handing over Madden. It was supposed to happen after dusk."

"What does that mean?"

"Regardless of the means," he sighed knowing she wasn't going to like the answer, "the result would have been the same."

.

~ o * 0 * o ~

.

The insistent ringing of his cell phone drove Bill out of his hiding place beneath his house. He usually took several minutes after rising, to actually get up. Naked and coated in a layer of dirt, he walked briskly into his office. "Hello."

"Vampire's Kiss." It was Josiah Walker. "We're taking a coffee break in an hour." He hung up.

"Ok." Bill sat his cell phone back down. He glanced out the window. By the moon illuminating his front lawn, it looked like it was going to be clear skies for the night.

Forty-five minutes later, Bill cut the lights of his car. Walker's abrupt phone call had left Bill unsure of a few things, but he was certain on one count: he knew they had found another body. It was to soon to know exactly what it meant. Was this a new victim? Was this an old victim that was only now found? Would his presence at the scene be welcome?

Miles away from civilization, he abandoned his car several miles to the north of where Vampire's Kiss was located. He had decided to go into the crime scene quietly. It was a dark, late summer country night. Bill made his way through several acres of cultivated fields. The light breeze rustled the crops around him. Moonlight gave it the appearance of the ocean's surface, the way it might gently reflect off the tide. For the first time in a few days, Bill genuinely smiled, taking pleasure from the simplicity of the moment. That solitary peace ended too soon when he glanced toward the horizon. The lights of Madden's night club could be seen. The way it lit the dark sky, it looked like a city out in the middle of nowhere.

Within a few minutes, Bill reached the edge of the field. No one was paying attention where the crops and the pavement of the parking lot met. Bill stepped out, his leather sole shoe touching the asphalt. Walker hadn't exactly told him where the body would be found. Spotting the employee entrance directly in front of him, Bill proceeded across, composed and with the air of someone who belonged there.

From the angled position of the building on the large lot, it gave Bill a good view of at least the front and one side. A CTS Decon van had its back doors open, like broken wings of a bird. The Crime and Trauma Scene Decontamination Team were already on the scene. One of the blue biohazard suites was busily talking with one of the uniformed policemen. Their heads were bowed, discussing whatever paperwork one was handing to the other. What this meant to Bill was that the human authorities had more than likely only just notified the Vampire Council, and that the body must have been found either last night or early that morning.

By the time the Council would have notified him of another murder, the CTS Decon Team would have erased the crime scene. All he would have had to go on were photographs and the monumental task of trying to separate the smells of the murder scene from the decontaminating agents. Not to mention the dozen human scents that would have inevitably tainted the scene.

Undetected, Bill entered the building through the side employee door. Faint voices drifted into the large corridor. Closed doors clearly marked the purpose of each room. The only open door was to the small employee lounge kept for the human staff. Inside a few uniformed police officers were drinking coffee. Unnoticed, Bill continued to ascend farther into Vampire's Kiss, finding his way into the main area.

"Bill!"

His eyes shot toward the direction of the female voice. Victor Madden's assistant stood near the bar with an employee. By the paperwork in her hand, it looked as if they had been going over some business. It wasn't what was in her hands though that had captured Bill's attention. It was the troubled expression on her face that had softened with relief at seeing him.

"Investigator, thank the night you have arrived." She sounded both relieved and assured in the knowledge that one of their own was there now to handle things. "They will not allow us to see the body."

"What happened?" Bill asked.

"Compton." Walker's voice boomed across the relatively empty club. He was one level down in the coliseum-like floor plan. "It's about time." He waved his arm for Bill to approach him.

"I'll need to speak with you later," Bill told her.

In seconds, he was standing in front of Walker. His appearance was somewhat ruffled. Bill wondered if he'd picked up his suite jacket off the floor. About the only thing on Walker that looked well cared for, were his dark jeans. Bill's brow arched in amusement. The Were looked like a man without a care, standing with his hands on his hips. His fingers hooked over the cracked leather belt he wore.

"What happened?" Bill repeated his earlier question.

"It's about damn time." His superior's wanted the crime scene cleaned up. He'd tried every delay tactic he knew and was running out of ideas. "Let me show you what I got." The movement he made, shifting his hands from off his belt, revealed the gun holstered snuggly against the side of his chest. "Come on. We don't have much time."

The two men, made their way purposefully, to the outside of the building. Walker had led Bill out the front and along the opposite side of the building that had been obscured to him when he first arrived.

"It's a good thing you showed," Walker said. "The bigwigs are breathing heavy on me to get this scene cleaned up pronto."

"I assume we have another body. What do you know?" Bill asked and listened. Walker explained to him all they knew. Who had found the body, where it had been found, why it hadn't been fried by the sun, and how he'd kept the area quarantined until he could arrive.

"Take a look for yourself." Walker tugged on the crime scene tap, arching it enough for Bill to duck under it. "Go on."

Bill went under the tape and cautiously approached the three dumpsters lined up unevenly behind the building. All he could detect at first was fermented garbage. It threatened to permeate every cell in his body. The stench of rotten food, spoiled alcohol, and wastebasket trash revolted Bill. His body wanted to coil into itself. Unconsciously, he rubbed the back of his forearm across his nose, holding it there for several long seconds.

His sense of smell was highly developed. Some vampires had a _unique_ gift unto themselves. There were the standard perks of being a vampire that they all shared, but for some, for whatever twist of nature, were born into the undead life with a _unique_ ability. Some speculated it was something they brought over from their human lives.

From wherever his _unique_ talent came from, why did he have to suffer his nose? Bill huffed. Sarcastically, he asked the universe why he couldn't have had a _unique_ gift like Sophie Ann's or have been like Eric, possessing no _unique_ gift other than the standard perks. At the moment, Bill would have been satisfied with the basic levitation all vampires had, and nothing more.

"Behind the second dumpster," Walker barked out.

Bill nodded and headed to the second dumpster. At first he didn't notice. It looked like an abandoned shoe. He stepped closer. Instantly he recognized the seam-free custom made $4,000 shoe. There was only one man who wore that shoe. He'd boasted some years ago of buying the patent on the design. Victor Madden. Why would he have tossed out his shoes? He wouldn't. Or even a better question, what would possess him to lent out his shoes? He wouldn't have.

At first glance, it seemed like only a shoe, but Bill knew better. He peered around the large commercial size dumpster. "Wow," he whispered.

There was a Pompeii-like eeriness to the scene. This was nothing like the other murders. It was clear from Victor's frozen posture that he had struggled. His face was a tortured testimony to the agony he had suffered. His mouth was held open in a scream. His arms were outstretched, away from his body, as if he were holding the sky from falling upon mankind. He was fully clothed. The expensively tailored suit he wore was a stark contrast to the purplish ashen appearance of his face and hands.

The air was suddenly too oppressive. Bill's hand gripped his chest. He didn't need air. It felt like he needed it. His vision blurred. He shook his head. It wasn't enough. He walked away, past the crime scene tape. He didn't stop until the clean Louisiana breeze hit his face. He hauled in the light and untainted air. With each breath it washed away the strangeness that had hit him. If he didn't know better, he could have sworn the strange feeling felt more like a presence. The memory of the sensation sent a shiver down Bill's spine.

"Put your head down." Walker's deep voice held no ridicule.

Bending over, Bill rested the palms of his hands on his knees.

"It happens to the best of us." Bill didn't reply and Walker didn't expect him to. "Hell, we may be able to bring down a mountain lion with our bare hands, but we aren't invincible."

Sensing the ground beneath his feet solidifying, Bill stood up. He breathed in more of the clean cool air.

"I felt it too." Walker spoke in a hushed tone. "Whatever is killing these vamps, it ain't human."

Bill didn't respond.

They stood staring out into the dark field. No one spoke for a long moment. Each man was lost in his own thoughts.

Bill's mind wondered to the night before when he found out Sookie was pregnant. The thought of her belly growing had his lips turning up into a half smile. She was going to be beautiful. She would be a good mother. He let out a discrete breath. There was a dull ache in his chest. It would be easy to say that it was because he had lost Sookie, but in truth, it was what his love for her reminded him of. It brought back in vivid detail everything Lorena had denied him by cursing him to this life.

Letting the feeling go, Bill glanced over to Walker. Steady, like the rock of Gibraltar, he stood soundless. Well, almost. Bill could hear his strong heart working; keeping him alive. He didn't mind the companionship of the rhythmic sound. It didn't even bring on his thirst for blood. Weres were an acquired taste, which Bill hadn't quite come around to.

"Sir?" A young man's voice broke their silence.

"Johnston." Walker turned to face the young officer. "What is it?"

"I gotta let the CTS crew in."

"Five minutes." He held out his hand; his fingers outstretched.

"Alright," Johnston let out a breath, "they aint' gonna like it."

"They'll get over it."

"Yes, sir."

"Ready Compton? You've got five minutes and then I gotta let them clean the scene."

Bill nodded. Bracing himself, he returned to Victor's body. Knowing now what to expect, he was able to concentrate more easily. He pulled out his iPhone and began to take photos. The foul smell of the garbage still proved a challenge. Bill pushed through it; focused on the scene; then on the details. The large imposing dumpsters were positioned haphazardly.

Careful to avoid Victor's body, Bill knelt down on one knee and leaned forward. His attention was focused on the ground at the corner of the dumpster. He took several snap shots. The dumpster had been pushed against the direction of the steel wheel, leaving several inches of deep gouges in the asphalt. Leaning back far enough to see, he saw where the dumpster had collided with the one next to it. It had an indentation in it.

There had been a struggle. Victor perhaps pushed his killer against the dumpster. The force hit the one next to it. It was hard enough so that this dumpster bounced back a few inches, dislodging from the other. Bill turned his head.

Sitting back on the heels of his shoes, Bill scanned the area from the lower position. There were no traces of blood. Nothing accidently left behind. No stake. No puncture wounds on Victor's neck. He was fully clothed with no indication that anyone attempted to undress him. His eye moved to the brick building.

Quickly Bill stood up. His body vibrated with excitement. He brought his nose a hair's breadth from the building. Blood. A few of the bricks had broken. He looked down near his feet. Brick dust and fragments.

His brow tightened with concentration.

Returning to Victor's body, Bill knelt and carefully leaned forward to inspect Victor more closely. Fragments of brick were logged in his skull. Dry blood.

The modus operandi was definitely not the same.

None of the other victims had died outdoors. None had been fully clothed. None had struggled. The only indication that the killer had to be the same was Victor's mummified flesh. It had the same strange ashen purplish coloring as the other victims.

Bill closed his eyes. His face was so close to Victors, they almost touched, but didn't. He breathed in, slowly and deeply. He was looking for something. That elusive scent. The one that had pricked at his memory like an overly starched dress shirt. He knew it had to mean something. Several seconds passed. Bill could hear voices approaching. He almost had it. Leaning just a fraction more, he sniffed around Victor's neck and mouth.

His eyes flashed with recognition.

"Bill," Walker's voice boomed, "times up buddy."

Standing up, Bill dusted his pant legs. He stepped across Victor's body. Glancing down, his eyes caught the delicate floral boutonniere on Victor's lapel. Bill never remembered ever seeing Victor without one. His last selection was somber. The small delicate violets somehow seemed fitting, he thought.

Bill's car engine purred to life. Putting it into gear, he headed to Highway I-20. Before leaving Vampire's Kiss he'd spoke briefly with Victor's assistant. The police had confiscated the security camera tapes. It was almost next to impossible for him to get his hands on it. However, the information she'd provided him had his mind whirling with activity. Victor had left with a woman. Granted the information had been obtained from glamouring their human employees, but Bill was certain it wasn't a coincidence. He pressed the button on his steering wheel. A second later a computerized voice came through the speaker.

"Say name."

"Sookie."

Her phone rang several times before the answering machine picked up. Hanging up, Bill tried again. He got the same result. His guess was that Sookie was working, and Preston was in his shop.

Taking the Bon Temps exit, Bill headed in the direction of Merlotte's. He had to talk to Sookie. He had to find out what perfume she wore.


End file.
